VIOLET team, back to the war
by Noxfero
Summary: Few knew that six years ago, the twins brothers Blutarch and Redmond cooperated, for fighting a threath to their personal war. they hired nine more men, creating the VIOLET team. they finished their mission for good, and returned to their lives. But someone is searching for revenge... Rated T for violence and some language. reviews really appreciated.
1. Meet the Demoman, the Spy and the Pyro

Starring in this cap:

Demoman: Douglas MacCroy

Spy: Jaime Chevalier

Pyro: Deirdre Callaghan

9.45 PM, Edinburgh.

"Now lads, I don't want to hear any more complaining! It's bed time, and no more delay!" boomed the black man, looking at his two kids as they jumped on their beds.

"And don't try the puppy eyes again! It won't work, or my name's not Douglas MacCrory!" he added, looking at the two. The childrens, a boy and a girl, settled down on their beds, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Ouh, but daaaad, we are not tired!" exclaimed the girl, pouting her lips.

"I don't care missy, it's past your bed time!"

"Can you tell us a story? Please daddy?" asked the little boy, sitting on the bed and looking with pleading eyes at his father. The man huffed, sitting on the bed.

"You promise to go to sleep for good if I tell you a bed time story?"

"We promise!" exclaimed the kids, smiling and covering themselves in their sheets, looking up as the man scratched his head, smiling.

"Very well lads, what story do you want to hear? Pinocchio? The sleeping chick?"

"But those are for babies!" whined the girl, glaring at her father. "Tell us about your job before you met mom!"

The black man frowned, scratching his short beard, before sighing. "Very well kids, but after this, off to sleep!" The children nodded, looking with smiles at their dad.

"Now lads, you have to know that when your daddy was younger, in the new world, there were two elf twins, a red elf and a blue elf, fighting for a piece of land that their father had discovered a long time before. They raised their army of little trolls, and began to fight, for years, years and years."

"Elf and trolls? Daddy, we asked for a story that isn't for little kids!" whined the boy.

"I'm the narrator here boy. Now, hush!"

The boy pouted, while Douglas cleared his throat. "Where was I… yes, the war. Eternal war, you see, with powerful magic and all this stuff." The boy huffed, while the girl mimed a gag.

"Now kids, just six years ago, some strange creatures, dressed in green and yellow, tried to interfere in the war, trying to steal the land from the twins. So they decided, just for a short amount of time, to make an alliance, and create an awesome group to deal with this devious threat, without their army's knowledge. So they decided to call a group of nine humans to deal with those green and gold creatures… and your old pa was one of them!"

"So… you want to tell us that elves hired you?" asked the girl, raising an eyebrow.

"Damn right kid. Your daddy was the greatest and coolest of them! The demoman, was my code name! Yeah, I was a good one with the bombing!" exclaimed Douglas.

"So, your dad and his companions fought, in exchange for a promised fortune, against the evil creatures, beating the crap out of them. Yeah, we fought lads, without caring about our injuries, until one night, after a year, we finally banished the three leaders of those creatures, sending them all back into oblivion!"

The two kids shared a glance, looking at the excited face of their father.

"And then, the two elven praised the nine men with a lot of gold, and a briliant future. I returned here to my hometown, I met your mother, and you know the rest. More or less." He raised his eyes, looking at the two: they were laying under their sheets, pretending to be asleep. The scottish black man smiled, standing up and walking oout of the room, turning off the light.

"You were telling them your crazy story?" asked with a smirk a blonde woman, turning away from a small television's screen.

"It's not crazy woman, it's the pure and honest truth!"

"It's the same thing you said when you tried to hit on me." she replied, still smirking. "You just didn't used all the fairy things with me."

"I have to cool it down a little for the kids, don't I?" answered Douglas. "I'm going to fetch a drink, and then I'll join you, wife." He walked off, singing thefor a beer advertisement, while his wife giggled a little.

Outside, in the dark alley in front of the building where Douglas home was, was parked a dark van. It's windows were open, and two men were looking up towards the building, without a care for the freezing air. They had their face protected by scarves and pairs of shades, while their elegant suits, mostly covered by black raincoats, was striped with green and golden colors.

"So, this is the place?" asked the one in the driver's seat, looking towards one of the building's windows with a set of binoculars. His companion nodded, consulting some paperwork.

"Yes. Douglas MacCroy: he works now for a demolition company, but the boss is sure that he is the VIOLET demoman."

"Fine with me." Grunted the driver, lowering the binoculars and raising instead a sniper rifle, aiming at the black man's head through the window of his kitchen, where he was drinking from a bottle of Guinness. "Now… steady…" he murmured, stroking the trigger… and the demoman dashed off. "Fuck!" he spatted, lowering the rifle. "Now he have to be distracted?"

Inside the apartment, Douglas ran over to the phone, which was ringing like crazy. He raised the telephone, panting. "Do you know the time, lad? What the hell, my kids are trying to sleep. Now, I don't know who in the blue hell are you, but you better have a good reason to call my home at this hour in the night!"

"Je parle avec le demoman?" asked a conceited, panting voice on the other side of the phone. Douglas blinked.

"Spy…?"

-oOo-

Forthy-five minutes earlier: Paris, France.

"My, isn't it beutifull out here?" asked the red-haired girl, looking at the moon behind the silhouette of the Tour Eifelle, her hands placed on the railing of the terrace. The slim young man just hugged her from behind, kissing her neck.

"Je pensais that could be a fine view for our sixth anniversary, ma chèrie." He said, stroking the long flaming hair of the irish girl. She purred, pressing her head against his chest. She was a head shorter than him, after all.

"It's amazing. Thank you so much for this hotel room, Jaime. Well, for everything, I have to say…" she murmured, turning and hugging the man.

"Do not even mention it, Deirdre…" he murmured, raising gently her face, while leaning slowly towards her lips…

The phone rang in an extremly loud manner, throwing the mood out of the window. The man sighed, leaving the girl and walking towards the phone. "Pardon me a moment to send them to l'Enfer and switch off the cell.." He said, walking towards the little crystal table where the black phone was ringing. The girl smiled and nodded, returning to look at the city.

He raised the phone, looking at the display, where the script "private number" was flashing. The frenchman frowned, before pressing the green button and putting the phone to his ear. "Pret? Qui est ce?" he asked cautiously.

"Am I talking to the VIOLET spy?" replied a cold male voice from the other side. Jaime stiffed.

"Who is there?" he asked again.

"That's not important for now, you can just call me The Undertaker. It's a fitting name for me. Now listen up boy: you are in danger. The family found you."

The frenchmen stiffened even more. The girl on the terrace noted it and walked in with an interrogative look on her face. "What does the family want with me?"

"Vengeance, I presume. But don't think to be so important, they are tracking down all the VIOLET team. You have to hide. They are inside your hotel right now. Three of them."

"Wha… why are you helping me?"

"That's not relevant right now. They are two floors down. HIDE!" ordered the voice, before hanging up. Jaime blinked, before grabbing the girl by one arm and pulling her towards the bathroom.

"Jaime, what are you doing? What's happening?" she asked, scared.

"Hide here. Don't get out for any reason!" he ordered, before closing the bathroom door on her face. "I need a knife now…" he murmured, moving towards the little kitchen of the room. But before he could reach it, the door cracked open, as three men entered in the room.

"You there, freeze!" ordered one of them, pointing a gun towards the frenchmen, who froze in place as ordered.

"Wow, that was easy!" exclaimed the second one, who had a shotgun in his hands: he was probably the one that had smashed the door, judging from his mass.

"May I ask what you gentlemen want in my room?" asked politely Jaime, taking a little step towards the kitchen. The one with the gun stroked the trigger.

"The family's bosses send their regards, Chevalier."

"Wait a second, don't kill him now! We have to discover if he's had some other contact." Exclaimed the third one, finally entering the room and darting his little mousy face around, sniffing the air. All of them were wearing striped green and gold suits.

"I don't have contact with anyone from the team. No one has. We have split up after the job." Jaime said bluntly, taking another small step.

"Well, I assume that's true… for all the secret stuff and all, I assume…" mumbled the mouse-faced man, lurking around.

"Maybe we should torture him a little, just to be sure." Said the one with the gun.

"Negative, we have to be quick in this, we can take care of him now. But first… we saw a pretty girl with you, frenchman… we'll take care of her in front of you, to start with." He hissed, smiling at the frenchman's expression. "So young man, where is she?"

"I think she's here Nick. Listen." Said the big guy, pointing at the bathroom door. From inside, an incoherent murmur was heard.

"Happy place… happy place… lollipops, bubbles and rainbows…" was blurting the swet voice of the irish girl.

"The fuck is that? Open the door Kurt!" ordered the mousy one. The big one nodded, and struck the weak wooden door, smashing it easily. And just after that, he screamed in pain, as a stream of fire darted out from the bathroom, aimed at his face. He dropped the shotgun, waving his hands in panic, as another stream of fire darted out, igniting his suit. From the bathroom emerged Deirdre, her hair over her devastated face, a can of hairspray in one hand, a lighter in the other hand.

The man with the gun turned, aiming at the irish girl. But he didn't have the time to fire, as a long, silver knife was planted in his neck. "Peekaboo." Hissed Jaime, leaving the knife and grabbing the gun from the dead hands of the man. "Such a gross weapon…" he murmured, aiming at the last one, who was hiding behind a chair, looking at the girl as she hummed quietly while looking at the burning body of the big one.

"Thanks to you, the past five years of therapy of Deirdre Callaghan, my fiance and the former VIOLET pyro have all gone down la toilette, you imbècile!" nearly shouted Jaime, pulling the trigger. The head of the third and last mobster exploded, and like magic, the girl blinked and looked at the charred body in front of her. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened.

"We have to get out of here! Now!" exclaimed the frenchman, grabbing the girl and helping her to stand up. They ran out of the room, down the stairs of the hotel, ignoring the curious couples peeking out of their rooms. The former violet spy took the cell phone, pressing some buttons before raising it, praying to be answered.

" Do you know the time, lad? What the hell, my kids are trying to sleep. Now, I don't know who in the blue hell are you, but you better have a good reason to call my home at this hour in the night!" exclaimed suddenly a grumpy voice on the other side of the phone.


	2. Meet the Medic, The Heavy and the Sniper

Starring in this chapter:

Doctor: Klaus Suire

Heavy: Alexei Nikolaev

Sniper: Stevo Brown

Somewhere.

The undertaker closed the comunication. The spy had been warned. Now it was up to him. The undertaker mumbled something, tapping on the console in front of him. He smirked a little, raising again his phone.

10:11 PM, Strasburgh

"Doctor, don't you think you should go home? You have been here for over a day." Said a young university student said worriedly in german, watching as the forensic scientist cut up a corpse on his table, whistling happily.

"Main kinder, don't worry for me, this is my element after all. But I zuppose it could be a good time for you to go home. I'll close up everything." He said, adjusting his glasses on his round face. The girl smiled, opening the morgue door.

"Thank you doc. See you tomorrow!" she exclaimed happily, before hurrying out of the room. "Man… that doctor is crazy… next time the university sends me to the esterum as a stage, I hope they find another german medic that knows how to speak english…" she mumbled angrily, walking towards the locker room, and failing to notice two men in dark raincoats entering in the hospital .

"Now now, mein freund, let's see your heart." Mumbled Klaus Suire, known in the past as the VIOLET medic. He opened wide the ribcage of the corpse, before plugging his hand inside and beginning to search.

The two men walked towards the stairs that leaded to the morgue and the storage area, avoiding contact with the nurses and the doctors on night shift.

"Ah, here it is!" he exclaimed happily, extracting the scarlet muscle from the dead body. "Not bad, not bad at all… do you mind if I keep this?" he asked, leaning towards the corpse. He then chuckled and placed it on a balancer. Then he stopped, when he heard the happy ringing of his cellphone. Klaus blinked in surprise, than he walked towards the table where his phone was resting and grabbed it, staining its white plastic body with the blood on his gloves.

"Bereit? Wer its das?!" He asked with his cheerful voice, adjusting his glasses with the other hand.

The two men walked towards the morgue. One of them extracted a revolver from inside of his raincoat, while the other one opened the door of the morgue. They entered, cautiously, looking around. Their attention was immediately attracted by the figure sitting on a desk, his shoulder covered with a sheet.

"Sleeping at work? Pathetic…" grunted one of them, while the other one just pointed the revolver and pulled the trigger. With a soft sound, the silenced gun planted a bullet in the body's head. It rocked a little, before falling on the ground, revealing a pallid, naked corpse, with his ribcage open and half of his organs missing.

"The hell?" blurted the other man.

"He must have escaped!"

"The elevator! Quick!" exclaimed the other, running out of the morgue, towards the stairs, followed by his companion. The morgue returned to silence for a couple of minutes, before one of the cold compartments opened, permitting the doctor to crawl out, the cellphone still at his ear.

"Ok… zey are gone. Now?"

"Now, you flee."

"Vhere, if I can ask, mister Undertaker?"

"Go towards the nearest airport, and wait for further instruction. Till the next time, Mister Doctor." Replied coldly the voice, before being substituited by the sound of the ended call.

"Scheisse." Spat the doctor, before beginning to run toward the emergency exit.

-oOo-

0:33 AM, somewhere in Russia.

"Hey Alexei! These american gentlemen want to talk to you." Muttered the russian clown, wiping some makeup off his face. Another successful performance for the circus, another night of money. So, Boris didn't have any problem permitting some strange guy to talk to the artists. Even if, those two were more… eccentric than the others. They had such strange suits. Yellow and green. The clown shrugged.

"Oy Alexei, did you hear me?!" asked again the clown. The enormous man finally turned, looking with his cyan eyes over the three men. He moved away his raven hair and motioned to the group to seat.

"No thanks, Mister Nikolaev, we prefer to stay up…" said coldly one of the two men. The giant shrugged, and sat down. From behind a beaded curtain, a little girl entered the room, looking a little scared of the couple of men.

"Xopowo, since you are all here, I can leave you to your business." Said Boris, walking back and exiting the little trailer. The giant just continued to stare at the two men.

"Now, I assume you know why we are here. And actually, I appreciate that you didn't try to resist. It'll be easier for everyone." Said one of the men, who had a thin trail of gray hair. His companion said nothing, opening a bag he was hiding behind him and extracting a tommy gun. The giant didn't react, even as the little girl's eyes widened.

"We'll just take care of you and your little sister, and all will be over soon…" added the old man, as the other aimed. And in that moment, the giant roared "pushed the little table violently against the two men, pushing them towards the wall. The man with the tommy gun tried to shoot, but his arm was blocked under the metallic platter that was the table. The giant grabbed the little girl and ran out of the van, into the little camp where the circus employee were living.

"Shoot him! Kill him, we can't let him get away!" shouted the old man. His companion grunted, sliding away from the table and running out of the trailer, his tommy gun ready to fire, quickly followed by his companion.

The russian giant ran, moving even faster when he heard the sound of bullets flying past his head, as a couple of them planted themselves in his shoulder. He was weaponless. He couldn't do much against an armed mobster.

"Fuck! Take the car!" ordered the old man, as the little silhouette of the VIOLET heavy began to fade into the distance. His companion nodded, running off and returning after no more than ten seconds with a black car with a filed plate. The car roared, and dartet to the chase. Boris stared, looking at all the action from his tent, blinking and wiping a little bit more of makeup off from his face.

"Maybe they didn't wanted to make a contract…" he mumbled.

"Give me that! I'll shoot that fucker down!" growled the old man, while the car was nearing the running pair. His companion handed him the gun. He grabbed it and leaned out from the window, aiming at the giant's back. And then, there was a shot. The windshield broke to pieces as a bullet pierced the driver's skull. The car skidded, getting off the road. The old man reentered the car, trying to take control, but before he could actually do something, the car slammed against a tree.

"Oy mate, over here!" called a voice in the darkness. There was a roar, and two headlights lit up the night, revealing an old van on the side of the road. A tall man with a hunting rifle in his hand waved to the couple, before entering the van. The giant nodded, patting a little the head of the little kid, and moved toward the van, helping his little sister into the backseat, before he sat in the front. The other man pressed on the accelerator, entering the street, and driving onwards in silence.

After a few minutes, the giant turned toward his companionglaring at the no-longer-young face that was semi-hidden by a pair of orange glasses (even in the middle of the night). "What are you doing here, Sniper?" he asked, pressing nonchalantly his hand to his wounded shoulder.

"I'm saving your life, I assume. And don't call me that, I'm Stevo now."

"How did you find me?"

"Well, this is a strange story, indeed. You see, I was just huntin' kangaroos and mindin' me own business, when I get a phone call from]a guy that called himself "the undertaker." Thought it was a joke at the beginning, but he knew I was the VIOLET sniper. He told me that the family was going to hunt all of us down. I was a little skeptical... that is, 'til they tried to blow me up, so I decided to follow his suggestion."

"And what was that?"

"Join the rest of the team. He's trying to save our lives, even if I don't know why. Anyway, he told me where I could find you, and it seems I was right in time too."

The giant nodded, scratching his beard. The little girl leaned in from the back, whispering something in russian to the enormous man. Stevo just looked at them, smiling slightly.

"She the Olga you told us about?" he asked, looking at the giant. Alexei just nodded. "Very well then, mate. Now, we have to go to Moscow. Can I count on you?"

"…The family is chasing me, and you. I do not have a big choice. But Olga is not safe with us. We have to leave her somewhere."

""Where, mate? You know how the family works. It's better to keep her with us…."

"….Damn it!"


	3. Meet the Soldier, Engineer and Scout

Starring this chapter:

Soldier: Don Gregory

Engineer: Vincent McDonald

Scout: Billy Stanley

Somewhere.

The undertaker yawned, stretching out his arms. He brushed the desire to sleep away: he had another call to make. He picked up the black phone, and pressed some buttons. He raised it to his ear, waiting for an answer.

"If you are calling for some survey, you can hammer your head against a wall, you maggots!" growled a voice on the other side. "You already tested my patience with that rubbish!"

"Am I speaking with the VIOLET soldier?" asked the undertaker, cutting off the man's ranting. There was suddenly silence on the other side of the phone. "I take that as a yes. I'm calling you to warn you about the family. They are searching for you."

"The family? We made cupkakes of them years ago, and got payed for that, thank you very much!" growled the voice.

"You managed to kill the godfather and his helpers, dispersing the family." Explained the undertaker patiently. "Now, they got a new boss and new liutenants, and they are determined to seek vengence for the affront suffered."

"And why they are not hunting down the Mann? They paid us!" growled the voice, this time a little concerned.

"The response of the Mann to the family was expected from them. Your actions, no. They've got a grudge against your team, not the mandants." The undertaker yawned. "I managed to call some of your teammates, and if you want to stay alive, I suggest you follow my instructions."

"Hold your horses man! Who are you, and why should I even trust you?" barked the man on the other side. The undertaker rolled his eyes, huffing.

"Call me undertaker. And, for your second question… do you really have another choice?"

"I don't even know if you are telling the truth!"

"That's up to you. Now, listen to me: I've called the Engineer… he's moving towards Boston, searching for the scout. You can find him at dock twelve in the industrial zone. He received instruction to wait for you from ten in the morning to three in the afternoon of tomorrow. He knows where to search out the scout. Now, it's up to you to trust me or not." He said, closing the call. He put the phone down, stretched his "arms, and then stood up and walked out of the dark room. He closed the black door behind him.

He started walking slowly through the dark corridors of the mansion, dimly lit by a series of oil lamps. He descended a squeaky set of wooden stairs, passing a couple of doors, and finally stepped out of the mansion: above, the dark sky rumbled as lightning struck in the distance. Rain was pouring down, without affecting two men in black raincoats with skull masks, waiting under the rain, while a third man was kneeling on the ground, his golden and green suit ripped and burned.

"Now, you sure you told me everything you knew?" asked sweetly the undertaker, walking towards them, without caring about the rain. The man on the ground whimpered, nodding. The undertaker looked at him, before gesturing to the other men. "Very well. You two can dispose of him."

"Wait what? You said that-" began the man, before a shovel hit his neck, slamming him to the ground, fainted. The two men then grabbed him, dragging him towards an open coffin, putting him inside, and calmly closing the container.

"Use an unmarked tomb, as usual." ordered the undertaker, before turning, and entering again into the mansion.

-oOo-

Even if it was early in the morning, the sun was already hitting hard the bald head of Vincent McDonald, current employee of the best repair shop in Houston, and past VIOLET engineer. As he sat on a short wall, looking aroundlooking around, he watched as bored, muscular men walked around, yawning and unloading crates from the ships moored to the dock. He huffed, bored: there was going to be a long wait. He huffed again, cleaning a thin veil of sweat that was already forming on his forehead.

"Do you want a drink, private?" barked a voice at his side, forcing him to turn. A tall, well built middle aged man was grinning at him, with a scruffed trail of beard on his cheeks and a gray military cut. He was wearing his old military jacket, and was holding out a beer to the other man, while in his other hand he had another open can of beer.

"I reckong that this is not the time for alchol pal." Grinned the engineer. The other man just shrugged.

"Good, more for me then." He grunted, gulping from one of the cans.

"So, apparently you trusted the undertaker guy, uh? I told him you coud have been stuborn, but apparently…."

"Apparently nothing!" exclaimed the soldier, burping. "I don't trust him, I just want to know what he told you to make you believe him."

"Well… not much… but I always thought that the family would be back. It was jsut a matter of time. Just like a hydra."

"What's that, some kind of fish?" asked the soldier, sitting beside his companion. "Anyway, I don't really think we need the help of someone that calls himself 'the undertaker'. I'm sure it's not even american! Maybe it's from Europe." He gulped another sip. "And he also found us!" he added.

"Yeah, that's a little freaky. He reminds me to the administrator Lady." Agreed the Engineer. "Anyway, are you in for catching the Scout?"

"Hell yeah. It'll be a pleasure to bonk again some sane American patriotism into that scoundrel's head!" bellowed the soldier, standing up.

"He's supposed to be past twenty by now!" corrected the engineer, standing up, grabbing a map from his pocket and looking at it.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. That's not an excuse."

-oOo-

Vincent knocked lightly at the door of the apartment, while his companion at his side glared to some kids playing on the street, grumbling something. The engineer knocked again, without receiving any response.

"Maybe he's not at home." he stated, turning to the soldier. The other man turned his gaze on the door of the motel. He pushed aside Vincent and began slamming his fist on the wooden, cracked door.

"You listen to me pal, you are going to open this god damned door, or I'll kick it so hard it'll knock a hole in your wall!" he cried. The engineer huffed: the soldier hadn't changed very much in the last five years. The door cracked open, and a woman's face peeked outside, moving a shower of oily brown hair away from her face.

"Who are you?" she croaked, glaring at the man.

"Don Gregory missy, now get out of the way and point us to the scout!" he barked, pointing his finger at the girl. She raised an eyebrow.

"Who?"

"What my friend means is that we are searching for Mister Stanley. We know that he's supposed to be here." Said Vincent, pushing Don aside a little.

"Who are you two?" asked the girl again, suspiciously, closing a little more the door.

"We are friends of his." Said the engineer immediately, noting the look on the girl's face, while beside him, the soldier grumbled something. The girl glared at them, again, finally opening the door a little more and stepping aside, letting the two men enter: the motel room smelled of sweat and smoke, and the floor was covered in dirty clothes.

"Woah, look at this crap! That's the same level of hygiene as the commies!" grunted Don, trying not to step on the piles of dresses, missing the glare that the girl gave him as the engineer rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to call him." Murmured the girl, sliding into another room, closing the door behind her.

"Well… I have to admit that I was expecting something better than this rat hole." Said Vincent, looking around. "We were paid enough to live in a nice place for years."

"He must have paid that girl's habit." Stated the soldier, while snooping around.

"What? And what the hell are you doing?" exclaimed in a low voice Vincent, watching as the soldier opened a drawer and began to search it.

"The girl, she was holding her hands on her elbows, to hide the syringe's marks. And there was a lot of other evidences too." Growled the soldier, extracting a couple of filled syringes from the drawer. The texan opened his mouth to reply, but shut up when the door opened again.

"So, who the hell are you guys to come into my home and turn everything upside down?" growled a young man with a messy short beard and a blond ponytail, glaring at the two, while the girl looked at the scene from behind him.

"Imagine him with only the lower half of his face visible and shaved." Said Vincent, pointing at Don. The young man blinked, then moved his eyes to the other man, studying him for a couple of seconds.

"Wait… wait… soldier?! Is that you pal?" he finally exclaimed, jumping back slightly.

"For you it's Sir commander soldier sir, private!" barked Don, placing back the syringes.

"So… engineer?" asked the past VIOLET scout, looking at Vincent, and he nodded, smiling.

"That's right partner. Nice to see you again."

"Yeah yeah yeah, whatever. We'll manage the sissy talk later. Now the dear Engineer has to talk to you about something…" barked the soldier, huffing, sitting rudely on a chair that squealed before smashing, accompanied by a shower of curses from the man.

-oOo-

"Ok, that's a great load of idiocy!" spat scout, glaring at the couple.

"Listen Billy…" began the engineer.

"No, don't 'listen Billy' to me, old man! That's a bunch of idiocy that an idiot told to you on the phone! I got a life here, I'm not going to change it suddenly for something that's obviously some kind of sick joke from that administrator hag that paid us!"

"What life? Staying in a stinky motel with a druggie girlfriend, struggling to pay for her next hit?" burst out the engineer, losing his temper.

"Watch your tongue in my home, pal!" shouted back the scout, darting to his feet.

The soldier grumbled, bored. Then he felt the vibration of his cellphone signalling that he had a call. He took it out, ignoring the arguing in the background, and looked at the number on the display: unknown. "Hello?" he grumbled, cupping the phone with his other hand.

"I see you decided to trust me. A wise choice for both of us." Stated the cold voice of the undertaker on the other side.

"Whatever, I don't trust you, but apparently you convinced the Engineer." Grumbled the soldier, walking near the window, getting away from the commotion. "The Scout is a lot harder to convince than me, anyway. It'd be better if I pass you to that maggot to convince him yourself. I'm not going to try to convince him, or I'll end making him swallow some of his teeth."

"Actually I'm not calling for that. It's not going to be me. The family is arriving." Stated the calm and cold voice.

"SAY WHAT NOW!?" exclaimed the soldier, quieting the couple of men behind him. "From where? Now? Why do you know these things?" he nearly shouted in the phone.

"I have my ways. They are coming from the main street, leaving the back alley uncovered. For what I can see, there are two cars, seven men."

"Seven? Did they know about me and engi?"

"I doubt it. But both we knows about the running ability of your friend Scout, and so does the family. They think that seven is a good number to block him. On the other hand, you three men are weaponless. I suggest a ret-"

" Forget it, commie, since when does a proud american run away rom danger?!" shouted the soldier, closing the conversation. " Those yellow-bellied dogs are coming this way. Seven. Let's beat the crap out of them! Do you have a shovel?"

"Wha.. I got only a crick and my baseball bat." Answered Billy with a confused look on his face.

"Close enough! Hand it to me son, we are going to break some skulls!" exclaimed the soldier, with a grin on his face.

The two black cars stopped outside of the motel, and three men stepped out. " You really think it's necessary that there are so many of us? " asked one of the men, checking his gun. Another man just nodded, passing a hand on his forehead.

"You sissified maggot scum have just signed your death warrants!" shouted a voice above them, as the soldier, the cricket firmly held in his grasp jumped down of the footbridge at the second floor of the motel, landing loudly on one of the men and swirling his arm, hitting the second one in the face, sending a splurt of blood in the air.

The third man blinked and aimed his gun at the soldier's head.

"Hey, ya pouty scumbag, why don't you try some harder aiming?" blurted the scout, jumping off the footbridge and posing in front of him, the baseball bat feermly held in his hand. The man blinked, and moved away the gun from the soldier. Don grinned, and smashed the cricket on the man's wrist. The man shouted in pain, dropping the gun, as another smash hit his face, knocking him to the ground with a mask of blood and a smashed nose.

"Aww, c'mon old man that wasn't fair, I wanted to have a little fun." Whined the scout, glaring at the soldier.

"Well son, you can manage those other guys." Said calmly the soldier, pointing at the other car as three men exited, their guns at the ready. Then he turned towards the first car, where an enormous man was getting out, wearing an iron knuckle.

"Let's see how long you last, tiny american!" growled the giant in a strong asian accent.

"We'll see that, you yellow face!" responded the soldier, before charging. On the other side of the stret, the scout was running in circles, while the three men were trying to hit him.

"Fuck, he dodged an entire clip of bullets! What the hell is he?" shouted one of them, dropping the empty magazine and replacing it.

"He's nothing special, it's just you're not good at aiming." Snickered another one, just before the young man jumped in front of him and smashed the bat on his head.

"Bonk! One hit, one ko for the Scout!" he shouted, jumping away as the third man tried to shoot him. He turned and smashed the bat into his mouth. "Bonk! I should be on a baseball card!" he declared, running away as the last tried to reload his gun again. He was at his side in an instant, and smashed the bat so hard that it actually broke the wooden bat.

"Bonk! Here, three out of three, I'm on fire!… oh fuck, that was my father's bat…" he complained, looking at the broken bat.

"Well, at least it saved your life son." Barked the soldier, patting the scout's shoulder. Behind him, the big asian man was smashed over the car's hood, with a faint trial of stars swirling over his head.

" We'd better get away from here, the neighbor probably called the cop." stated the scout, dropping the rest of the bat to the ground. And as if he had been summoned, the engineer arrived from the back alley in an orange SUV, stopping right in front of them.

"Hey there partners, need a lift?" he asked, grinning. The soldier's eyebrow darted up.

"What's this freakish thing?"

"Dunno, just took the first car and started it. After all, I work with cars now. They are much simpler than sentry guns. C'mon guys, the cute lady is already inside."

"Well, let's get away, pal, before we're swarmed by both police and the family's men!" exclaimed Don, jumping in the front seat as the scout jumped in the backseat, at his girlfriend's side. Vincent pressed his foot down and the SUV roared, sliding onto the street before darting away.

"Now what?" asked the scout, leaning towards the front seats. In that moment, the soldier's cellphone rang again.

Oo-oO

Here it is, all the old VIOLET team has been presented. Now guys, witch of the groups of characters do you want to see next? Take a minute and vote on the poll on my profile to let me know that. And don't forget to drop a review, I'd like to know if I'm enteresting you or just letting you say "Meh… what a bunch of crap."


	4. Meet the Violet Team

Ok, I messed up things with the poll on my profile. Now It's up, and still opened. So, while you'll go vote, here it a cap with everyone, for not upset any of you.

Enjoy and review.

Oo-oO

Starring this chapter: the VIOLET team.

Five years ago, Indianapolis.

The Diamond Tip Hotel was enormous and majestic, one of the greatest structures in the metropolis, and stood as a "golden middle finger to the sky" as Riley Wesley, its creator, had declared. He had died two days after, crushed by a church bell. Poetic justice, someone said.

The skyscraper was over ninthy floors tall, and and accomodations included pool floors, restaurant floors, casino floors, and any other kind of enjoyable thing you could think to put in a hotel. Of course no one knew that the hotel was one of the most loved properties of the biggest criminal organization in the whole world, that used it as a bastion for laundering dirty money and drug dealing. The customers of the hotel usually didn't notice the people dressed in those yellow-green suits, but that day was different. That day there were an enormous bunch of them. Many more than usual. All the customers had also been asked to leave the hotel for the afternoon-evening. Some kind of big family reunion, it appeared. But since for the inconvenience, the hotel was going to offer a gratis treatment at the hotel's spa center, no one really complained about that.

In the huge underground parking, contrary to all the other days, instead of the variety of cars that usually were parked there, there was only a group of black cars… and an orange colored van, near the elevator for the Hotel.

A couple of suited man walked towards the van, knocking on the backdoor. One of them casually stroked the gun-shaped swelling in his vest. From behind the van, poked the head of a well built man, with a yellow worker helmet on his head. "Hello there pals, what can Ah do for ya?" he asked, smiling.

"Good morning si, maybe you didn't hear, but the hotel has requested for all his customers to leave for a few hours. It's an important matter."

"Oh. Ah'm not a custuomer."

"Then who are you?" asked the other man doubtfully, stroking again the bulge on his suit.

"I'm just an engineer. Got some works from the mayor. Ya know, checking the gass pipes in some areas. There is supposed to be a leak somewhere. Didn't the Hotel get the memo and note letter?"

"Apparently not…" muttered the man, scratching his chin. "How much time do you need?"

"Well, me and my pals have to dig, check and refill the hole. An hour, maybe." Answered the engineer, scratching his nape. The man leaned over him, handing him a wad of banknotes.

"Let's say half an hour?"

The engineer grasped the money, smiling. "Half an hour it is then." The men nodded, and moved away, followed by his companion.

"You saw his clothes?"

"That violet color is nice."

Meanwhile, the Engineer entered in the van, placing the money behind the driver seat. "Ok guys, it's better if we start to move. No news from the others?"

"Ve vere just going to check them." Answered the Medic in his thick accent, adjusting his glasses on his nose, like he always did when he was nervous. Beside him, the russian giant nodded, while patting the Medic's head, clearly trying to calm the man.

"Yup. We are hear lads. Can you heare us?" barked the scottish man on the other side from a radio that clearly had seen better times.

"I'm here, I'm here, don't scream, devil of a Scotsman!" grunted the voice of the Soldier. "Why do you get the radio and all of us these sissy earphones?"

"Because we have somewhere to hide it." Answered the Demomen, snickering. "You and the others are ready?"

"I, the Scout and the Pyro are hidden, waiting for the signal. Sniper is in his place, aren't you?"

"Sure am. Covering the front street mates." Answered the Sniper.

"Why the hell do we have to wait here like idiots? Let's just go in and smash some skulls!" exclaimed the Scout's voice. "I'm a man of action!"

"Easy son, you don't want to be a dead man of action. Planning is the most important part of the war." Sounded the soldier's voice, both from his earphone and from Scout's.

"Now, remember lads, one of you two has to stay with the Pyro. Probably you soldier, we both know that Scout will be going around like crazy."

"Hey!"

"Just be sure to pass on the orders. After all, it doesn't have a earphone."

"Mhmh… the frenchmen?" asked the sniper, while in background they could hear the sound of the Sniper's rifle, Machina, being mounted and secured on the windowframe of the abandoned palace where the sniper had set up.

"Je suis hear, Sniper." Rasped the voice, extremely disturbed, of the Spy. "Prepare yourselves. Two minutes to l'action."

"Remind me mate, why ya have to jump down from an airplane?" asked the Sniper.

"Yeah, that sounds unnecessary."

"Il est, mes amis. I'll not permit any contact. They'll flee towards the top, scared by your attack below, and then I'll les tuer them quickly."

"You what? Speak english, you sneaky bastard." barked the soldier.

"I'll kill them." Translated the Spy, annoyed.

"Mmmh Mh Mmmmh Mmh!" sounded the muffled voice of the Pyro through the Scout's earphones.

"I'll be careful, I promise." Said the Spy, the smile evident in his voice. "Ok… cloaking device activated… I'm off… get ready." He added, suddenly nervous, before his vocal contact went off.

The Engineer nodded, and began to pass earphones to his companions. "Everyone remember the plan?"

"Ja. Even if, after all, I shall be concentrating on the "ztaying alive" part." Said the Medic, adjusting again his glasses.

"Don't worry pal, you are a champion with that medi-gun."

"Da, tiny man is right. Medic will keep us all alive." Added the russian.

"Ja, that is right. And vit that thing that the RED medic developed and the administrator passed to us, that uber-charge thing, I think that you'll be great to lead the way, mein freund."

The frenchmen's voice rose in the airphone. "Don't worry. This is the last time you'll see me…" he said, before a slashing sound was heard. "Je suis on the roof. Mission starts: now!"

The four men looked at each other, and simultaneously jumped out of the van. The Demoman raised his grenade launcher, as the Heavy charged with his oversized minigun in his hands at the maintenance door, opening it with a kick.

"Hey, what are you doing?" shouted one of the two men that had tried to bribe the Engineer. The Demoman turned and shot: a little purple bomb flew through the air, landing a few feet away from them. The explosion echoed through the garage, making two cars explode, while another three started to scream their alarm.

"Here's the signal! Charge! For America!" shouted the Soldier's voice.

"Wohoooooooo!"

"Mhhh Mhmh!"

The Heavy walked inside the room, followed by the Medic. "Give as a minute!" shouted the Engineer, beginning to mount a sentry gun behind the now closed door, as the Demoman began to place sticky bombs on the elevators engines.

On the upper floor, in the hall, chaos was reigning supreme: the Scout was running around the front of the little group of people, slamming his metallic bat on every mobster's face he could reach. "Pop Quiz: How long's it take to beat a moron to death? BAM! Sorry, time's up, you're dead!" he shouted, slamming it into the face of another mobster.

"You maggots are just poisoning the true American's spirit!" blasted the Soldier, firing like crazy with his rocket launcher, reloading so fast that his hand was just a blurry image. The rockets flew everywhere, blasting people to pieces.

"Now I have you, american!" shouted one of the suited men, with a strong russian accent, pointing a gun at the Soldier's back. He didn't even turned, just pointed the rocket launcher at the ground, firing: the push he received from the blast made him fly through the air, out of the other man's trajectory. He then turned in mid air, pointing his weapon.

"This is my world! You are not welcome in my world!" shouted, firing and exploding the man in a shower of bloody pieces.

Behind the mess, charring whoever tried to flee, the Pyro was walking, slowly and calmly, waving its flamethrower around, while singing something, the words muffled by the mask. Whoever was so unlucky to get in its range, was engulfed in flames, and left on the ground to burn, squealing in pain. And whoever was lucky enough to avoid the stream of fire and actually get out from the hotel's door, found his end when a bullet passed through his head, sometimes killing two people at the same moment.

"Wave goodbye to your head, wanker!" sounded the voice of the Sniper in the team's earphone, as another shot was heard. "Another mongrel down. When the cops arrive, remind mewhat I have to do."

"Kill the mobsters as usual, Engineer's toys will take care of whoever will try to follow us up the stairs, and-" The Soldier's voice was covered by an explosion coming from some other earphones.

"Sorry about that gals. Now, the elevator's out of order. We are getting to you lads!" exclaimed the Demoman's voice.

"We are passing through the kitchens." Added the Engineer.

"Heavy could get a sandwich?" asked hopefully the russian, while with his voice arrived the sound of his minigun and the scream of agony of helpless victims.

"Ven we'll be back at ze base, now ve have zome vork to do!" chirped the Medic, probably hopping happily behind the giant.

"You got blood on my suit." Stated the cold voice of the spy, probably after backstabbing someone. "We got a problem, by the way. One of the objective is blocked in one of the elevators."

"We'll deal with that later. For now, we'll have to move as according in the plan. Let's move!" ordered the Engineer. "How are you moving Spy? Cloaked or disguised?"

"As far as I can, cloaked. If I have to disguise myself, I'll warn you. Just to avoid to being shot in the face by you."

"Mghhghm mgrg?" muffled the Pyro in a questioning manner, probably while looking at the Soldier.

"He said that one of the objectives is bloked in an elevator." Answered the Soldier, shooting at a group of men that were trying to hide behind a half-destroyed counter.

"Mghh mghgmwh?"

"The Pyro asked at what floor."

"Halfway between the second and the third." Answered the Spy.

"Between the second and the third. Do you want to take care of it?" asked the soldier. The Pyro nodded enthusiastically, igniting another couple of men in the process.

"Mates, I can hear the cop's sirens. You'd better move up the stairs." Exclaimed the Sniper. "The administrator lady ordered us to keep the civilian casualities low."

"Here we are!" shouted the Demoman, blasting off a door and entering into the hall, followed by the rest of his group.

"Toymaker, you'd better set up your machines!" roared the Soldier, beginning to walk up the stairs, as two cop cars stopped in front of the Hotel.

"Herr Heavy, ve'll ztay here, covering herr Engineer. The rest of you, run up! Ve don't have time to waste!" shouted the Medic, hiding behind the enormous body of the russian, while pointing and activating his medi-gun, fixing a few scrapes on the giant's body with a purple, faint glow.

The rest of the group nodded, and began to run up the stairs, led by the Scout. "Ya head's a freakin' Bat magnet!" sounded in the microphone, followed by the now familiar sound of smashed teeth.

The Engineer kneeled on the ground, beginning to rapidly set up a sentry gun, while the Heavy placed himself in front of him. "How is the Uber, Medic?" he asked, glaring worriedly at the group of cops entering into the other side of the hall.

"Do ya need some help there mates? I can put some of them down if ya want." Sounded the voice of the Sniper.

"Zhere is no need, herr Sniper. Ze uber is ready." Exclaimed crazily the Medic, activating the charge of his medi-gun, blasting a stream of purple energy into the Heavy body. He roared as his heartbeat accelerated and the ubercharge began to run in his veins, giving his skin a lucid violet color.

"Who sent all these babies to fight?!" he roared, waving slowly his minigun side to side, mowing down whoever tried to enter.

"Sentry up, two more to go!" shouted the Engineer, beginning to set up another automatic sentry gun, as the first one began to shoot at the cops, aiding the Heavy.

"There iz no hurry, herr Engineer. The medi-gun can handle leicht those little guns." Chirped the Medic, laughing maniacally. The Engineer gulped. Sometimes the Medic worried him more than the Pyro.

On the second floor, the Soldier and the Demoman were killing whoever tried to get near the stairs, while the Scout was running around the floor, smashing everything he could place his bat on. The Pyro was a little up the stairs, sending a constant stream of fire along the second floor, burning alive whoever tried to get down. It had a couple of bullet holes in its suit, but they weren't a problem.

"Got two scoundrels at the windows and three on the fire escape. How's it going for you?" asked the Sniper, reloading his rifle.

"We're moving up, sentries placed!" shouted the Engineer, breathing heavily. "Man, Ah'm getting too old for all this movement!"

"If you vant, I can replace yourz lungz!" said the Medic, probably grinning. "Zomeone need my help up there?"

"Pyro got hit a couple of times, and Soldier got a chair on the head. For the rest of us, we're going great!" said the scout, smashing down a door.

"I'm impressed." Replied the Spy's voice. " The majority of the objectives are on the seventy-seventh floor. Another objective is moving towards my direction, I'll end him. You keep up with the boon travail. I'll contact you later."

"Why he cant's speak in english?!" barked the Soldier, while a purple stream surrounded him, healing his bruises, as the Medic, Heavy and Engineer joined the others. "Let's move on!" he ordered, walking up the stairs. On the third floor, he was stopped by the Pyro.

"Mghr mghh!" it said, pointing to where the elevators were, on the other end of the corridor.

"Yes private, get rid of him. We'll wait for you." The Pyro gestured a 'No' with its head, pointing at the stairs.

"Mh… ok private. Just be careful." Replied the Soldier. "None of my men are allowed to die on me."

The Pyro nodded, and ran towards the elevators. The soldier nodded too, and followed the rest of the team up the stairs.

-oOo-

The Pyro grabbed its fire axe, putting the blade into the door and forcing it open. With a muffled grunt, it pressed the metallic door away, grabbing again its axe and replacing it in its belt. It moved its eyes into the abyss where the elevator was dangling, trapped by the destruction of its engine. Apparently it was lucky: the one under it was dangling slightly. The Pyro grabbed the cable and slid down, landing on the metallic box.

"Hey, is someone there?"

"Take us out of here, please, I'm claustrophobic!"

"Help us!"

The Pyro tilted its head, lowering on its knees and opening the little door on the top of the elevator: the looks of relief in the men's eyes changed to one of fear, as the mouth of a flamethrower poked inside the box. The Pyro pulled the trigger, and the still air was filled by the screams of agony of the men. The Pyro rose the flamethrower mouth after some seconds, locking it at its side, preparing to climb towards the opened metallic door it had used to get on the elevator.

-oOo-

"We have lost contact with Winter's group!" stated one of the suited men nervously, reloading his gun.

"Bloody hell. What is he doing?!" grunted a middle-aged asian man. "You two, get in contact with the other lieutenants, set up a perimeter around the godfather. We have to resist until the cops arrive to rescue us."

"The cops sir?"

"Well, of course, we are just innocent citizens with good taste in weapons and fashion, under attack by a bunch of crazy gun men. Now, off you two!" he ordered. The men nodded and headed out of the corridor, running down the stairs. The asian man nodded, then fell silently on the ground, a knife stabbed in his back.

"Pardon me, mon ami." Stated coldly the Spy, uncloaking himself and grabbing his knife. "Second lieutenant dead."

"Second?"

"I assume that Pyro got rid of the one in the elevator, n'est-ce pas?"

"I think… oh, here you are, big guy, did you…? Ok, it killed him." Said the Soldier's voice, while the sound of explosions echoed behind him.

"Very well, continue you ascent, I will manage to kill whoever I can."

"Sorry to burst your bubble mates, but the cops managed to take out one of the toymaker's sentry guns. And a swat team is on the way." Barked the Sniper's voice, followed by a shot. Then a sudden ruckus come from his headphone.

"Hey lad, you okey?" asked the Demomen, stopping in the middle of the stairs.

"You got blood on my knife, mate!" sounded the australian's voice after few seconds. "Yes, I'm ok, but the cops got me. I have to change location."

"If there is going to be a swat team, they are going to steal all the sniping positions, pal!"

"Well, I'll just have to take them back from those wankers." Said calmly the Sniper, closing his earphone.

"Getting low of ammo here!" cried the Heavy, while killing another wave of men.

"Ja, ve need a dispenzer here, herr Engineer." Cried the Medic, trying to heal the Heavy with the medi-gun, while with the other hand he was duelling with his bonesaw against a mobster's knife.

The scout passed over them, slamming his bat on the mobster head and heading towards the stairs. "Come on brothers, we still have a long way to go, move your asses."

"Easy for you to say lad." Panted the Demomen, breathing heavily. "What floor are we on?"

"Uh… one two three, forty-six, seven… uh… twentieth, I think." Answered the soldier, counting on his fingers.

"Sixty more to go, je crains." Answered the Spy. "Just go stright up and ignore the little fishes. Keep your stamina, just let the Demoman explode whoever try to catch you from behind, affacer?"

"Dispenser up!" cried the Engineer, while the Heavy was already near it, reloading his minigun. "Ah don't have a lot of materials to set a lot of them, so maybe the Spy's idea ain't half bad. Let's sprint to the top."

"Oh yeah! I love to sprint to tops!" cheered the Scout, grabbing some ammo for his shotgun and darting towards the stairs.

-oOo-

There were at least twenty men in the hall of the eightinth floor. They had placed whatever they could find to form a barricade, and they were all still now, waiting. Suddenly, a panting was heard, as an enormous guy walked onto the floor, trying to catch his breath.

"Give moment." He gasped, leaning against the wall and breathing hard. The men looked at each other, unsure on what to do. "Ok, I'm ready, tiny men!" roared suddenly the giant, grasping the minigun attached to his back and beginning to fire.

"Take him down damn it, take him down!" shouted one of the men, aiming with his shotgun. His head was blasted off by the Engineer's gun, just a second before a rocket flew towards the barricade, blasting whoever was near enough to pieces.

"Ok…ok, we are finally here…" panted the Soldier. "Now what, frenchman?"

"Move forward through the floor, l'objectif est inside the conference room." Arrived the frenchman voice. "Push forward and-" A shot was heard. "Merde!" cursed the Spy's voice, before contact was cut.

"Vell, sheisse!" added the medic, pointing his medi-gun and healing a series of bullet holes on the Heavy's body. "Herr Spy it'z not gut in open fight."

""Ya mean he's just a backstabbing jerk." Corrected the Scout. "But he may be in danger brothers! What are we going to do?"

"Mhhhg mh mgrgh mgh!" exclaimed the Pyro, pointing at itself.

"…Just be careful, and bring him back alive." Ordered the soldier, nodding. "We'll move towards the objective." The Pyro gave a thumb's up, and ran into a corridor, away from the commotion.

"Mates, move on, the swats taken out the sentries!" barked the Sniper. "They are running in. You got… fifteen minutes, more or less."

"Let's move then!" ordered the Soldier, reloading his rocket launcher. "Charge!"

"Zis is going to be schön katastrophal!" exclaimed the Medic, before laughing like a maniac and beginning to shoot a purple stream of purple energy towards the heavy, as he led the group.

Another door was opened by a stream of bullets, as the russian giant entered into another corridor, his skin again full of purple energy, the bullets deflected by his now-charged body.

The Scout passed over him, running along one of the walls and beating the hell out of every head he could see. "Ey, is somebody keepin' track of track of all the heads I've batted in?" he shouted in his earphones.

"Braggart." Muttered the Engineer, while shooting from behind the heavy with his simple gun. Behind the whole group, the Demoman shot a couple of grenades down the stairs, followed by the sound of exploding bodies.

"How's that feel, ya blockhead?" he shouted, receiving only silence in response. The last door was metallic and locked, probably sealed by some automatic lock.

"Ok, stop here partners, this is going to be tricky." Muttered the Engineer, examining the electronic padlock, while behind him, with the blast of shotgun, the Soldier cleared out the corridor. "Ah need some time to hack it."

"We don't have some time pal, let's open it!"

"How? The Spy had all the sappers, I can just try to decode this thing!"

"Incoming!" screamed the Heavy, charging the door. With a loud, cringing noise, the giant smashed down the door, roaring and waving his weapon, followed by his companions. And at least fifty shotguns aimed at them, blocking their way.

"Zhere vere going to be only two bodyguards ja?" muttered the Medic, glaring at the group of mobsters in front of them.

"I suggest you don't move, or my men are instructed to make your head pop." Said a slow, raspy voice, as an old man in a green and golden suit walked towards them, his hands firmly tangled around a walking stick with a diamond on the top.

"The godfather, I assume!" growled the Soldier, closing his fists in rage.

"Hey mate, how' do you do that jump of yours?" asked the Sniper's voice in the earphone.

"I'm actually surprised you made it this far, but at the end, you just delayed the inevitable." grumbled the old man. The men behind him aimed their shotgunsotgun.

"Pointing this thing at my feet, aiming, then pulling the trigger…" muttered the Sniper's voice.

"Stop that, what are you trying to do, you crazy kangaroo rider!?" roared the Soldier.

"I dont vant to have to fix you vit ze glue!" exclaimed the Medic.

"Oh boy!" muttered the Scout.

"What are you…?" began the man, just before an explosion sounded loudly out from the team's earphones. And after a few seconds, a suited man looked out of one of the enormous windows. He opened his mouth, just a second before a bullet came from outside, smashing the glass and hitting him in the forehead, making his head explode, as well astearing through the other man behind him.

The group of men turned, confused, trying to understand what was happening, giving to the team the opportunity to react. The Soldier and the Demoman fired into the mass, provoking even more chaos with the explosions caused by rocket and the grenade. The Heavy began to shoot immediately after, covering his companions with his body, while the Medic was redirecting his medi-gun, giving a quick heal to the man entering flying through the window. "Ya'r a hell of a crazy man, Sniper!" exclaimed the Engineer, smiling wildly.

"That's what they all said 'bout me, mate." Grinned the australian, placing his orange shade on his nose, while aiming his rifle and making another head explode. "Close quarter combat s'not my style, but thought you could use some help."

"Hell man, that was AWESOME!" exclaimed the Scout, while shooting with his shotgun. "Ya're completely crazy down in Australia!"

"Zis is dibatable." Grinned the Medic. "Now, ve just have a doubt: are herr Spy and herr Pyro ztill alive?"

-oOo-

"J'ai la chance to be still alive." Muttered the Spy, pressing a hand to the side of his balaklava, where a bullet had scratched his head. He looked angrily at his cloaking devices: completely smashed. He should have brought the other one too. He pressed himself toward the little alcove in the corridor's wall, getting cover from the two guns shooting at him. He grasped his revolver, ready to reply. Even if he was running low on bullets.

"Come out from there, you little sneaking bastard." Ordered a voice, followed by a shot.

"Hell yeah, he's sure going to listen to you! Let's just take him and skin from top to bottoaaaAAAAArgh!" shouted a second voice, accompanied by the sounds of flames and the screams of the other man, followed by the sound of something heavy chopping into something else.

"Pyro? Ètes-vous?" asked the Spy, without raising his head.

"Mgggrg mh!" responded the Pyro's incomprehensible voice. The Spy sighed in relief and got out of the alcove, welcomed by the flaming carcass of one of his two assaulters, while the other one had his head chopped in half by a fire axe.

"Merci my friend." He panted, managing to stir a little smile. The Pyro just mumbled something and pointed at the other one's head. "This? Just a scratch, le Mèdecin will be able to fix it fastly." He said, brushing off the Pyro's gauntleted hand.

"There you are, you freak!" boomed a voice, as another mobster jumped into the corridor, his machine gun aimed at the Spy. The Pyro muffled something and jumped in front of the slim, purple suited man in the same moment the family's man pulled the trigger. A group of holes opened in the Pyro's violet fireproof suit, as it emitted a muffled scream of pain. The Spy raised his revolver and fired, without even aiming, making a hole in the other man's forehead. The Pyro was bleeding, its hand on its knees, evidently trying to catch breath, while a faint trail of blood had began to flow out the filter of its mask. It trembled, and probably would have fallen on the ground, if the Spy hadn't caught it.

"Aller, my friend, remember: no one is allowed to die on the Soldier's team." He said, trying to mantain a calm and reassuraing voice. From under the mask, the Pyro emitted a little giggle.

Dragging the Pyro, Spy managed to walk down the stairs, finally arriving in the hall of the floor where he was supposed to meet the others: the entire floor was covered in pieces of corpses, while in the center of the room, the Soldier and the Sniper were looking at a corpse. "Ok, this wanker is a dead wanker now… who killed him, at the end?" asked the australian, glaring at an old man's body.

"Can't honestly say private. But he's dead. Mission accomplished."

"Gentlemen…" murmured the Spy, announcing his presence.

"Hey, mate, you are finally… what happened to Pyro?" asked the Sniper worriedly, noting the condition of the pyromaniac.

"Mein Gott, it took quite a beatening… I zhould be able to fix it, though." Said the medic, walking over and helping the Spy. "But it's better to do that in the truck!"

"The teleporter is almost ready. The other part is already activated, so, as soon we step ou of here, the Demoman will demolish this damned place!" said the Engineer, while building a glowing footboard on the ground.

"The police is near." Stated calmly the Heavy, preparing his minigun. "Engineer finished his teleporter?"

"Yup!" exclaimed the texan, setting the last screw. With a low buzzing noise the pad glowed, and immediately the Engineer jumped on it, disappearing into the air. The rest of the team followed, with the Demoman coming last; just before jumping, he pressed the remote connected to the sticky bombs he placed on the basement and all over the support columns.

-oOo-

"Let's move here mates!" barked the Sniper, running through the back of the truck and jumping in the driver seat, starting the engine. The Engineer darted to his side, beginning to guide him. Behind them, in the vast space of the back, the Spy and the Medic placed the panting Pyro on a medical bed that was rocking a little every time the australian tool a curve.

"Vell vell vell… ok, ve need to extract the bullets, before closing it up with the medi-gun. Ve don't vant the bullet closed inside it now, do ve?" asked the medic, lowering the energy of the medi-gun and passing it to the Heavy. "Keep the ray over ze Pyro, vile I'm opening it." He ordered, then turned again over the figure laying on his table. Around him, the Soldier, the Demoman, the Spy and the Scout were all watching.

"That means… you are going to open it?" asked doubtfully the Soldier, scratching his nape.

"Zhat is correct! Zo, I need to ztrip it." Stated the Medic. The others gasped.

"Ya want to show us… the face of the beast, lad?" murmured the Demoman. "That's going to be worse than the time when I saw Nessie…"

"Ja ja, vathever…" grunted the medic, before beginning to unzip the Pyro's suit. The first thing that they noticed was that the thing that they always considered fat was the padding of the suit. Actually, Pyro's body was indeed slim and athletic. The second thing that they noticed was that actually, the chest of the Pyro was unnaturally full.

"What's that? It has some kind of growth on the lungs?" asked the Soldier.

"Nein, those are bruste." Said extremely surprised the Medic.

"Those are what?"

"Boobs." Translated with annoyance the germanic doctor.

"What the hell?! It has some sort of infection to its chest?!" roared the Soldier, grasping the bed's edge. "And it never told us?!" The Medic glared at him while trying to understand if he was playing stupid, or if he actually believed what he was saying. Sighing, the Medic loosened Pyro's mask, and pulled it off, revealing a shower of scarlet hair.

"Mon dieu!" exclaimed the Spy.

"Oh boy, that's UMBELIEVABLE!" screamed the Scout.

"For my grandmother's undewear!" roared the Demoman.

"The hell?!" barked the Soldier.

"What is it?! What is it?!" screamed the Engineer with fright as the Sniper tried to fix the truck, which had slid a little on the street when he had been strartled by the team's scream.

Heavy, the only one calm other then Medic, looked towards the texan, still pointing the medi-gun towards the figure laying on the table. "Is not an it, is a she."


	5. Preparing for War part1

It was a draw, I had to toss a coin for this cap. Here it is guys.

Starring in this cap:

Demoman: Douglas MacCroy

Spy: Jaime Chevalier

Pyro: Deirdre Callaghan

10.15 PM, Edinburgh

"Douglas, do you want tell me why in the blue hell did we have to take the kids, run into the garage, take the car, start it, and begin to wander around without an apparent objective?" growled the blonde woman, glaring daggers at the scottish man in the driver's seat. Behind them, in the backseat of the old car, the two kids who had been forced to wake up were now sleeping again, snoring loudly.

"I told you woman! It's to save yer life!" answered nervously the man. He wasn't sure if he feared the family or his wife's wrath more.

"I hope you don't think you'll convince me with something so stupid…"

"Damnit woman! Why did I have to do something like this then?!"

"I don't know. Are you drunk or something?"

"Hell woman, I told ya the truth! The group of shitting twinkletoes me and my mates bit to death years ago are trying to kill us!"

"And you know that because…?"

"'Cause the Spy called me! You never listen?"

"Sorry Doug, but it's really hard for me to believe this." Stated the woman, glaring at the Scotsman. He was about to reply, when the cellphone began to ring.

"Here, take the steering wheel." Ordered Douglas, grabbing his wife's hands and placing them on the wheel, while grasping the phone. "Jaime? Is that you?" he asked, ignoring his wife's swearing and the rocking of the car.

"No. But I have to thank him, since if I found your number by spying on his phone." Answered a cold voice. "I'm the Undertaker. And I'm the one trying to keep all of you alive."

"So you're the one that the Spy named earlier?"

"It's probable. The family is following your car. Follow my instructions. You know you can trust me. I saved the Spy after all."

"Yeah, I assume I can trust ya. Just tell me where t- hey!" exclaimed the Scotsman, as his wife grabbed the phone with a hand and brought it to her ear.

"Hey, who the hell are you to order my husband around?" she growled, while still driving with with one and keeping away Douglas' arms with her elbow.

"I assume you are the wife…? Call me the Undertaker. I'm trying to save the lives of your family, ma'am."

"Ok, nice talking smart guy. You can fool this blockhead of my husband…"

"Hey!"

"But you can't fool me. What do you want in return, supposing all of this is not an elaborate joke from my dear groom here and one of his friend?"

"Watch your tongue, woman! The last person who talked to me in such a manner is now manuring the daisies!"

"You mean he's dead?"

"No, but he does have a sucky job." The woman couldn't withhold a giggle. "Now please. Follow my instructions. You have to go to the nearest airport. I'll make sure my men leave a gift for the Demoman."

"Who?" asked the woman, raising an eyebrow.

"Your husband."

"Can't we just… I don't know, go to the police or something?"

"I'd say no. The family have men everywhere. Go to the airport. I'll make sure you stay alive." The woman frowned.

"Is it really so serious?"

"You have no idea how much." The call stopped, and as soon the woman looked at his husband, a shot came from the car behind them, waking up their childrens and smashing one of the car's mirrors.

"Holy heavens! Douglas, do something!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do?!" cried the scottish man, regaining the control of the car and darting down the deserted street. "What did he say?!"

"Dad, what's happening?!"

"Not now sweetie! He said to go to the airport!"

"Fine! I'll take the highway, then! It's not too far away if I take fifth street!"

"Are you out of your mind? It'll take an eternity! Take the next turn!" Another shot flew a few inches away from the car.

"Cool! We are in an action scene with cars and guns and stuff!" cheered the Demoman's son happily.

"Yeah, only problem is that we're on the wrong end of the guns!" growled his father. "If only I had my gear… lads, hold [on to yourselves!" he ordered, pressing down on the accelerator to drive even faster.

"What's happening, mom?" asked the daughter, now fully awake.

"Well… it's hard to explain, but… is that car driving in the wrong direction?" Douglas' wife asked, pointing to a black car that was driving towards them. Douglas yelped in surprise and let out a colorful shower of curses while rocking the car, avoiding the other one.

"Douglas! Watch your tongue with the kids!"

"Oh come on, ya have to permit me to say something in situations like those!" shouted the scottish man, failing to notice the black car sliding in the middle of the street behind them, blocking the family's car. And he also failed to notice the group of skull-masked men getting out of it and beginning to shoot at the other car.

The rest of the trip on the highway was quite calm for the family, if it could be considered calm a couple of hyperactive children and a crazy wife. When he finally stopped his car in front of the enormous structure that was the airport, Douglas was near a mental breakdown.

"Ok, now! You three wait here, while I see if I get called again…" he said tiredly, stopping the engine and opening the car door.

"And give you the chance to sneak to the bar? No way dear, we're coming with you. And after all, if there is so much danger, I prefer to stay near you. I mean, I'm the one wearing the pants in this house, but your help could be appreciated." Said his wife, grinning and opening the other door and taking out their sons.

"Oh come on! And they are in their pajamas! We can't drag them around the airport!" whined the scottish man, trying to keep all of them in the car.

"That's your fault for taking all of us out of the home in such an hurry." Said calmly his wife taking her son into her arms and helping her daughter to get out of the car.

"I…but… the family… that was…I…" babbled the black man, before huffing. "A no is a no woman! I say you three stay here, and you three WILL stay here!"

-oOo-

"Dad, I'm hungry! Can I have an ice-cream cone?" whined the Demoman's son, while rocking on the airport seat. His father grumbled something.

"Don't bug your daddy Sean, he's grumpy because we didn't do what he wanted." Scolded calmly the boy's mother.

"Like usual?"

"Like usual. And besides, now you are supposed to be in bed, young man, not eating stuff."

"But I'm not tired!" whined again the boy. Douglas was tempted to answer, but he was stopped by the ring of the phone: it startled him, leading him to give voice to another stream of curses, earning a pat from his wife. Luckily there weren't that many people staying in the big waiting room. Douglas stood up, grumbling and opening the phone.

"You got there I see. Still in one piece, at least." Stated the cold voice on the other side. "I assume you are the one that bought your son's night dress, yes?" he asked, chuckling slightly.

"Wha… how did you know, lad?"

"Come on… bombs on red pajamas? It doesn't take a genius to figure that out…"

"Ah… and how did ya know how my son's clothes are decorated?!"

"My friend, I might be just one man, but I have eyes everywhere… if you turn a little to the left…" Douglas turned, facing an airport security camera. "… I can have a nice view of your confused face. Now, back to keeping you alive." Stated the voice, cold again. "Follow my instructions…"

"Stay here, I'll be back in a jiffy!" exclaimed the black man to his wife, before darting away through the airport's corridors, following the instructions that the voice gave to him. At the end of his errand, he stopped in front of a series of metal cabinets that belonged to the airport personal.

"The second one on the left… the pass for the lock is the one I said to you. Whatever you find inside, is yours."

"Good to know, lad. But, apart from this, what do I have to do to keep my family alive?" Asked Douglas, while setting the numbers on the lock. The voice on the other side stayed silent for a couple of seconds.

"Stay where you are until tomorrow morning. I'm sure you'll see what to do." He stated finally, before closing the call. The scottsman grumbled something, finally opening the cabinet: inside, there was a couple of piles of clothing, probably for his sons, and behind them, something heavy and with a strange shape was covered by a ruined blanket, with a paper stuck to it. Douglas, raising an eyebrow, grabbed the paper and read the note, which had probably been ripped out of a magazine.

'Looking for a good way to eliminate the competition? Tired of having a weapon with a measly single barrel? Want to hit your enemies where it hurts? Now you can have all of those things and more with our latest in a long line of home-baked explosive goods!' was written, in the incontrovertible style of the Mann Co.'s publicity blurb. The scotsman eyes widened, grasping the blanket and pulling it away: a new, shining grenade launcher with a double barrel was resting in the cabinet, a raven feather posed over it.

-oOo-

11.30 PM, Paris

"Here are your tickets, monsieur." Stated timidly the employee behind the Paris ticket office. The tall young man nodded, smiling, grasping swiftly the couple of tickets with a gloved hand, thanking the woman quietly. He then turned, passed the few men still wandering for the airport, and walked towards the other side of the immense structure. The cafeteria was still open, a bored fat old woman mopping the floor. The man walked towards the only occupied table, where a red-haired girl was staring into a cup of hot tea.

"You didn't drink your tea." Stated Jaime calmly, sitting at her side. She didn't answer, shaking a little, her eyes widened and still focused on the full cup in front of her. Jaime sighed lightly, and rested his hand on the girl's shoulder, trying to trasmit to her a little bit of his warmth.

He knew that this had been coming. In the same moment he saw her burning down the men of the family. Her frail mind was going going to crack again, as her psychiatrists had warned him after the last session.

"Come on, mon amour, you need to drink something. We didn't even had a dinner." He urged, pushing the cup a little towards her. She stayed quiet, shivering a little. She had been in this state from almost an hour now, after the call to Douglas and the quick escape from the hotel. He sighed again. The girl's eyes flickered.

"They are returning…" she murmured, biting her lips. "In the hotel. "For just an instant… but it happened…" she said, gulping and shaking. "The vision returned… I don't want that…" she said, her eyes tearing up. Jamie held her, trying to think of anything to say, but he didn't find anything. He couldn't even hope to understand Deirdre's state of mind. What could you say to someone that, whenever they were put in a contest of violence and suffering, dove away into an illusion of a wonderful, happy place, while their body acted on its own?

He patted awkwardly on his fiancee's shoulder, while she let out a low cry. She had tried to get rid of her problem, after the work for the Mann as the Pyro, six years before, spending all her money and part of Jamie's too in therapists, experts and everything else. No one had been able to help her, except for the last one, who with a mix of hypnotism, therapy, and luck had managed to reduce the frequency of the visions. But being in a violent environment where she had risked getting had just nullified all the past efforts.

Jamie stroked her red hair, while in his pocket he felt the cellphone begin to vibrate. He raised it to his ear, still patting his companion.

"Pret?"

"Such a cute scene. Sorrowfully, we don't have the time. Your flight is less than half an hour from now, and I suggest you don't miss it. And before that, move your french ass to the dock four for luggage retrieval." stated the cold voice of the Undertaker.

"We don't have any luggage…"

"Well, now you do!"

"Are you nerveux, my friend?" asked Jamie, glaring at no one in particular.

"In a certain sense… move yourselves." Grunted the voice, before closing the call. The Spy sighed. No sense in trying to criticiz the guy who was trying to save his life.

"Deirdre, I have to get a …gift, from our protector. Try to calm down and drink a little. I'll be back in une fois." He said, kissing the girl's forehead before walking off, reassured by the Deirdre's weak nod. He walked quickly where the Undertaker said, and was welcomed by a series of motionless conveyor, all of them empty. Except for a flat purple bag on the fourth. Jamie retrieved it, ignoring the few present, and opened it: the first thing he noticed was a golden pocket watch with a hummingbird engraved on the front. Then he noticed a piece of paper, where there was printed an image of the same with the addition of a publicity blurb that stated: 'By the time your adversary races towards your 'body' to frisk you for cash and pull gold fillings out of your mouth, you'll already be behind him, poised for the killing blow.'

He looked at it, blinking, before smiling. A fine piece for a cloaking device. He put the paper back in the bag, preparing to return to the saddened Pyro, when he noticed a long, big raven feather inside the bag.

-oOo-

Twelve minutes before, Somewhere.

"What do you mean, the automatic armor won't be ready in time?!" hissed the undertaker, slamming a hand on the table. "Hale, you never deceived me before, don't do it now!"

"Don't worry, my good client! Not a one was ever deceived by my products... or at least, had the time to realize they were." Answered a masculine voice on the other side of the phone. The Undertaker gulped: Saxton Hale was certainly one of the few people on the planet he didn't want as an enemy.

"I know, I mean, I don't want to complain… but I thought I ordered it with a large advance, and now you tell me it's not ready yet…"

"A little delay. We are having sort of a fire drill here."

"Fire drill? And you didn't put it out already?" asked the Undertaker raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it's not actually fire. Just an army of robots." Answered calmly the voice on the other side. The undertaker blinked.

"I'm sorry…what?!"

"Yup. Robots. But don't worry, I'm taking care of it. Don't worry, we'll call you when we are ready. Good day to you, dear client!" exclaimed Saxton Hale on the other side, before hanging up. The undertaker blinked again, trying to process the news. He then growled and called another number.

"Saint Grace hospital." answered a cheerful and happy voice. The Undertaker groaned.

"Sis, I need your help." He managed to blurt into the receiver.

"Oh, bro, is that you!? Hey, it's a long time since you called me! Wha-"

"Whatever. Are you available for a tour first on a boat, and then here at my place?" asked the man, growling.

"Woah woah woah… for what? I'm not in your kind of business, and you know that. I'm not going to check on your men."

"Those are good people. More or less. On the boat, I mean. Here, I think I need your help."

"Awww, my li'l bro needs his big sis! Don't worry, it's ok. Just tell me where to go."

"Just go to Ottawa's airport, there will be a man to take you where you need to go… and you are not my big sister!"

"Yes I am."

"We are twins!"

"I was born three seconds before you, so I'm the big sister. Bye bro." She said calmly, closing the call. The Undertaker fumed, before doing his next call: he had to give the Spy his present.

Oo-oO

Hope you liked it, and remember to drop a review.

P.S. Who is excited for the Mann vs. Machine update? I tell you who: me.


	6. Preparing for War part2

Starring this chapter:

Soldier: Don Gregory

Engineer: Vincent McDonald

Scout: Billy StanleyHeavy: Alexei Nikolaev

Sniper: Stevo Brown

Boston Docks, 11.45 A.M.

"The car is here!" barked one of the family's men, stepping out of his car and pointing to an orange SUV sitting motionless in the street, its doors open. Another two men stepped out from the black car and ran towards the cement dock where the big car was parked.

"Empty. Fuck, we can't have lost them!" grunted one of the men, glancing inside the SUV, before gazing around the dock: a few feet away, loading some big crates onto a merchant ship, there were a group of men that were completely ignoring the three armed people searching around the SUV.

"Hey you! Have you seen the driver of this thing?" asked one of the men, trying to catch the dockworker's attention. One of them turned his head, a bored expression on his face.

"The three guys with the girl? They ran towards those warehouses." He stated, pointing to a set of buildings a few feet away. "Probably don't know that their car will be towed away."

The family's men didn't answer, loading their guns and running towards the building. The man at the dock scratched his beard, before calling to the men on the ship, who began to raise up the last crate.

"Ok boys, we are ready, lets get out of here!" cried out the captain's voice, as the ship began to move away from the dock. The captain, a tall, bearded man, walked out of the cabin and onto the deck, while other beefy men began to put the crates in the hold. He walked slowly towards the last big crate that had been loaded on, opening it. "All ok in there?" he asked, smirking.

Don muttered something, his face pressed against the wooden surface of the crate. Vincent gavee a thumb up, as Billy and his girlfriend smiled at the captain.

-oOo-

"You were all lucky the Undertaker told us to ready for any circumstance. Lucky that we had the the time to store you in that crate." Mumbled the captain, drinking a little glass of wine, while his four guests were sitting around a simple table in his cabin.

"So, you work for that creepy guy on the phone, huh?" inquired Don, looking suspiciously at the old man in front of him. The engineer shook his head, sighing at his companion's behavior.

"You could say that. And I was instructed to bring all of you to the main ship. Until then, you are under my supervision." Grunted the captain.

"Man, this guy is organized. Any idea of why he's working so hard to keep us alive?" asked the former Scout, with his feet up on the table. The old man grumbled something about manners, before answering.

"Can't say I know, boy. The Undertaker has a lot of plans."

"And we are going straight to him, unarmed and without any kind of tactical advantage? I don't like it." Grumbled Don, glaring at the old man.

"Actually, he left you some pretty nice weaponry in your rooms, I think you can find them quite nice and…" began the old man, but Don had already vanished, running towards his room laughing like a child that had discovered it was Christmas.

"So… how is this guy?" asked the former Scout, rocking slightly in his chair. The old man sighed and sat on another chair, filling his glass again.

"Cold. And calculating. That what I always noticed. And not an honest guy, I can say. He saved my shipping agency from bankruptcy, but now he has us transport some package of… I don't know of what… but some suspicious package everytime we travel."

"Oh… and where are we going now?" asked Vincent, while pushing off Billy's feet off of the table. The captain grinned.

"Katenhult, in Sweden. Little port town, it's not even indicated on all the maps. But there is our dock. And also, the Undertaker's lair." Grinned the old man. "But we have a little schedule before that. My orders are to be at a certain set of coordinates tomorrow afternoon, and pick up the last four members of your group."

"Four? Ya're mistaken, there are six members left in our group" stated the texan engineer with confusion. Then, the door opened and Don entered the cabin, while laughing at something that the australian guy at his side had just said as an enormous Russian squeezed his way through the doorframe.

"Nope, four, I'm sure."

"Heavy! Sniper! Holy heavens!" exclaimed Vincent, jumping to his feet and running to them, shaking the Sniper's hand.

"Howdy there mate, nice to see ya'll again. I was just getting out of my cabin, and ran into the Soldier here."

"Only Australians sleep untill noon." Stated Don, grinning. "At least, Heavy was helping the workers." The giant just smiled lightly, as Billy joined the Engineer in his welcoming, patting the giant's back. "I didn't even had the time to check what this Undertaker guy left me."

"So captain, when shall we get the others?" asked Alexei, moving his eyes over the old man.

"Tomorrow. Them, including the family of one of them... apparently the Undertaker wants to keep your family members alive too."

"That's kinda strange." Stated bluntly Don, scratching his head.

"I assume he's doing that to keep your morale high. Like he accepted protecting also Scout's girl and the Heavy's li'l sis." Commented the captain. "Now, get out of here and relax. For a little while, you are not going to have to fear bullets and stuff."

-oOo-

"Now, this is a good piece of weapon." Grinned Don, while looking at the rocket launcher placed on his bed, in his little cabin: a black, rectangular rocket launcher with rounded edges, sporting two dark grey fastening bands near the front end and case coverings hanging open at both ends of the weapon, the rear case covering swinging idly.

Smiling wildly, former soldier raised it and measured its weight, taking some steps around the room. It was extremely heavy, but he could walk easily with it. He placed it carefully on the bed again, reading the piece of paper near to it: 'If you're lucky enough to sport the upper body strength to actually carry this monster, you can guarantee, after firing this half-a-ton hellraiser, it will be the only thing left that's not a smouldering pile of ash.'

"A weapon for a true american!" he stated happily to no one in particular. He then turned and left the cabin, joining the rest of the group. "One of the last creations of the Mann's industries, I can tell guys!" he boasted. "What do you got?"

"A nice weapon." Stated simply the engineer, raising a large pump-action coach gun-style shotgun with a wooden stock and ornate engravings on the metal receiver, to which a violet cylindrical capacitor with an antenna was attached. "I wonder why they are giving us weapons. I mean, didn't he want to simply protect us?"

"Well, weapons for self defence, it's obvious!" roared Don, while walking on the deck with the rest of the old group. Well, almost all the rest. Billy had vanished with his girl somewhere. But no one of the others wanted to try to find him.

"Well, I don't need a new weapon mate, still with the good ol' Machina. After last time, I gathered some money and bought one of my own. That thing let me save a lot of money on bullets."

"So ya're still in the rangering buisness?" asked Vincent, while leaning over a crate.

"Ya can say that, even if lately it's more hunting down the poacher instead of keeping the number of animals under control." Grunted Stevo, adjusting his glasses. "Then that guy called me and told me to retrieve the Heavy from a russian circus. Can't say that was easy."

"A circus? Seriously?"

"I spend all money on little sister's oeration. We have to continue to work in circus after that." said calmly Alexei. He didn't mnd what the others might think about his job when he wasn't in his role of heavy weapon guy. It was a family tradition, after all.

"And you brought your little sister into this? Man, you commies are quie strange." Grunted Don.

"Delicate as a rhino in the back as usual, I see. The Family would have tried to kill her too." Stated the Sniper, huffing. "In this case, having a family could be a weight."

"Olga is clever girl. She knows how to stay out of trouble." Stated simply the russian giant. "So, if there is going to happen something bad, she'll be ok." Don opened his mouth just to retort something, but the Engineer cut him off, trying to avoid any argument on having kids around weapons.

"So, what did you get, Heavy?"he asked, while shooting a warning look at the Soldier. Alexei shrugged, taking out from his pocket a ripped paper, passing it to the texan: written in cubical letters, he saw a publicity blurb. Evidently, for the Undertaker, they were better that any other explanations. 'Look at all those people scrambling around with their tiny, ugly guns. But this- this gun is b-e-a-utiful. So pick this beast up and blast away those distrustful little buggers all the way to Hell. Is it worth it? Of course it is.'

"A nice piece of minigun! He must really care for our skin, to spend so much in fine weaponry just for us!" stated the Soldier, who was reading the advertisement from behind the Engineer's shoulder.

"We'll see what's the deal when we'll meet him. No sense in slamming our heads on that now." Stated Stevo, while looking at the sea. "I just hope Scout's ok. After all the dilly dally, he seemed to be a little off. Scared for the girl, I'm assuming."

"Heck yeah. But dragging around drug-addicted girls have his downsides." Snickered the Soldier. "I want to see how long he'll bear her."

-oOo-

"You okay 'Ann?" asked Billy, concerned, watching as the girl opened her eyes, staring at him from the bed where she was laying. Her eyes moved briefly to a corner of the little cabin, where a wooden club covered with spikes and reinforced with metal bands was resting. She moved again her eyes to Billy, taking a deep breath.

"What's happened?"

"You passed out when we entered here." Said Billy, looking worriedly at the girl. She tried to sit up on the bed, but as soon as she tried, an intense nausea hit her, forcing her to lay still again.

"Where are we?"

"On the ship that saved our arses."

"Oh… so it was all real huh? thought I was tripping out really badly." Grunted the girl. "God, it hurts… do you have some stuff with you?" she asked, rolling a little in the bed.

"No honey, didn't have the time to get your stuff." Answered the young man, stroking the sweaty hair of the girl. "You have to resist a little."

"Fuck." Grunted her. "This is going to hurt."

"Stay calm, I can see if the stuff this ship is transporting has anything that could be good for you." Reassured the Scout, before smiling at her and sliding out of the cabin.

"You aren't going to find anything down there, kid." Stated calmly the captain, lighting up a pipe, from where he rested on the wall outside the Scout's room, startling him.

"Woah! What are you doing here old man?!"

"Just checking if everything was ok, that's all." The old man stated simply, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "And anyway, whatever kind of stuff your girl needs, it's not here anymore. We have to give the package to some people. I'm afraid you can't search them."

"Well fuck. She's going to be in a lot of pain. She needs… well, actually, whatever kind of… well…. Drug…." Grumbled the scout. The old man puffed another cloud of smoke.

"Young man, who am I to judge? Unfortunately, there is anything like that here. Some painkillers might do the trick anyway, yes?" he asked calmly, being praised by the happy expression on Billy's face. "They are in the infirmary. Go get them, tiger." He added. The young man nodded, before darting away. The captain let out a rough laugh. Those young people. He inhaled again from his pipe and walked again towards the dock, looking over the other group of men, who were laughing and talking about something, while a little girl was spying on them without anyone noticing. Maybe this assignment wasn't going to be so bad.

Suddenly, his cellphone rang. He hurriedly took it out, and tried to accept the call, trying to remember the right button to click. Those modern newfangled gizmos!

"Hello there?"

"Wow, you actually managed to answer the phone. I'm impressed." Answered a cold voice.

"Hey boss. Nice for you to call."

"The load is safe?"

"Safe and sound." Stated the captain, while looking again at the group of men. "Oh, the Scout's companion, got some sort of addiction."

"I was aware of that. Not a problem for me to handle. Now listen, we have a little problem. The main ship had an…. incident…and now, you are going to receive the rest of them and carry all of them into town. No delay. You are also going to welcome my dear sister. Am I clear Oliver? You don't have to worry, nothing dangerous is going to happen to your ship."

"What kind of incident?

"Blown up. I'm starting to assume that there could be a leak of information from my base."

"A spy?"

"A spy. But I'll handle that. Just bring me that group. Or you can say goodbye to your ship, crew, and calm old age. Am I clear?"

"As crystal, sir."

Oo-oO

Next cap will be up in a few days. Remember to drop a review.


	7. Preparing for War part3

Seventh chapter, earlier then usual but hey. Hope you enjoy it. And remember to drop a review. At least i know if I'm doing a good job.

Starring in this chap:

The Violet Team.

9.45 A.M, Edinburgh Airport.

"Wow dad, this is a cool gun!"

"Just a toy, lad, to keep you two occupied. Don't run around with it, though." Grunted Douglas, grinning as his children. They both smiled in their new sets of clothes at their father, before going back towith the 'fake' grenade launcher. Douglas' wife leaned towards him, a furious expression on her face.

"Fake huh? Doug, why are you letting the kids play with that…. thing? And why do you have it, for that matter?" she hissed. Douglas cowered in fear.

"Well honey, I… we don't have any place to hide it, it's safer letting the kid having it. At least everyone will think it's just a toy."

"A toy doesn't need to be held with both hands!" she hissed again, while her son was running behind his sister between the legs of passengers that were trying to catch a flight. "And why do you have something like that?!"

"Why… listen woman, I was probably given that to protect you and the kids! Come on honey, It's not loaded. Just relax."

"Relax?!" nearly screamed the woman, drawing the attention of a couple of passing men. "Sorry if I'm a little nervous for the fact that someone tried to shoot us down!"

"Well, you are a police officer, you should be used to it…" murmured Douglas, trying to be humorous. Without succeeding.

"Douglas McCroy!-" she began, standing at her full height, her hair sparking with electricity, her eyes blazing. Jus to be interrupted by a gentle voice behind her.

"Excuse moi?"

She turned, looking at the person that dared to interrupt her scolding: a tall man in an elegant suit was standing in front of her, a calm expression on his faceface as he gazed at her. Behind him, a red-haired girl in a green dress was looking at her.

"What do you wa-"

"Spy! Pyro! Holy dowly, it's really you!" boasted Douglas, standing up and moving aside his wife to shake the man's hand. The woman glared at him, but decided to see where this was going. "Lads, is good to see you two!" exclaimed the black man, smiling to the pair, as Deirdre waved timidly at him.

"Est good to see you encore in vie, monsiour Demoman." Stated calmly Jaime, shaking the other man's hand.

"Hahaha, I don't have any idea of what you just said." Answered the Demoman, smiling brightly, not noticing the frenchman rolling his eyes. "Have to admit, it's hard to recognize you without your balaklava. And it's hard to recognize you without all your suit." He stated, pointing at the pair. "But where are my manners? Woman, those are Spy and Pyro."

"The ones from your story?" asked coldly the woman. Douglas ignored her.

"And this is Sue, my lovely wife, and… Sean, Sarah, come here you two!" he shouted into the crowd. The couple of children emerged giggling and running toward their father, their laughter stopping in the same moment they noticed the couple talking with their parents.

"And those are Sarah and Sean, our children." Concluded proudly the Demoman. "Lads, say hello to your daddy's friends."

The Spy just waved flatly to the couple of kids, his eyes locked on the grenade launcher in their grasp, while Deirdre crouched, smiling to both of them.

"Hi there kids." She managed to say, smiling. "My name is Deirdre."

"Why don't all of you go take some breakfast with the nice lady?" asked the scotsman, giving a pleading look to his wife. Sue huffed, before taking her childrens hands and beginning to walk, followed timidly by Deirdre.

"I see our common friend left you a little present too." Stated the frenchman, pointing at the grenade launcher left on the ground by Sean. Douglas picked it up, sighing.

"Aye. With a reason, I assume. We were chased, last night." Grunted the Demoman. "He gave something to you too?" he asked, his eyes locked on the frenchmen, who nodded, showing a golden pocket watch.

"It's some sort of cloaking dispositif, even if it doesn't work like my old 'cloak and dagger' watch." Answered the Spy, while staring coldly at the moving crowd. "Say, was it a good idea for you to leave your family alone? Deirdre didn't get any weapon, you know?"

The Demoman opened his mouth, trying to reply something, before a voice sounded behind them from the landing bridge.

"Zis is a violation of my rightz!"

-oOo-

"So… I didn't catch your name…" said coldly Sue, passing a little glass full of warm milk to Sean while glaring at the red haired girl, that cowered a little behind her cup of tea.

"I didn't say that… I… huh, well the Demoman already introduced me, yes?" she said, gulping and smiling awkwardly. Sue didn't move away her gaze, still studying the girl.

"His name is Douglas. And I want to know your name." she insisted. If she was really the Pyro that Douglas had described in his stories, she had to make sure she wasn't around the kids. A criminal family was enough.

"Well… uh, ah… my name is Deirdre Callaghan and-"

"Where are you from?"

"Well Dublin but-"

"And tell me, what were you doing in Dublin, before you met Douglas?" asked again the woman, leaning towards her. Deirdre bit her lip, while starting to breathe rapidly, closing her eyes. The woman raised an eyebrow, as a confused murmur escaped the girl's lips, sounding something similar to "I don't believe in magic, I don't believe in magic, I don't…"

"Are you ok lady?" asked Sarah innocently, looking at the girl and tapping her arm timidly. Deirdre's eyes shot open as she jumped slightly in her seat, before relaxing and giving a weak smile to the girl.

"I'm fine sweetie. Just a little bit tired." she said, returning her eyes to Sue, who was still studying her face. "It's not something I want to talk about." She said, before lowering her gaze and grabbing her cup, sipping a little bit of tea.

"I'm keeping my eyes on you." Sue murmured, as the girl nearly choked.

-oOo-

"Zis is an outrage! I'm a doktor, not zome kind of weird terroristic person!" exclaimed Klaus, as a couple of men of the security staff held him, as a third one opened the briefcase that had evidently caught their attention.

"It's a routine check mister, please calm down." Stated one of the men, trying to calm down the german, who seemed to be far from calm.

"Zhere is no necessity of thiz!" Klaus grunted, as the man opened the suitcase and extracted a cleaver-like blade fixed into a bonesaw's grip. Its most prominent feature was a large syringe filled with violet liquid and the needle protruding out of the front of the saw. The guards' eyes widened.

"Vat? That's my inztrument, you know?" Klaus huffed angrily, shoving the guard's hand off of his shoulder. "I zuppose you have to pay attention to vat people take on the planes, not vat they take off."

"That's the most stupid thing I ever heard!" stated the guard, putting back the strange looking saw. "We have to take you into custody, mister."

"Vat? For vat, if I can inquire?!" nearly screamed the man, stepping back from the guards, just to be grasped all the tighter by them. The Demoman and the Spy peeked between the mass of people stopping and toward the group of arguing men.

"Est que le Medic?" asked the frenchman, watching as the german tried to grasp his briefcase, but was restrained by the guards. There was little brawl, as the german tried to flee, with a series of swears and curses in his native tongue.

"Sounds like him." said Douglas, nodding and scratching his. One of the guards tried to restrain the german, and received the suitcase on his head. "Now… what do we do?"

"Help him?" asked the frenchman, as the other two guards leaped over the german, trying to restrain him.

"Yeah, of course, but I mean, he's not making things easy."

One of the guards took out his gun and pointed it at the german on the ground, accidentally ripping a piece of his suit, revealing a green and gold striped vest under it.

"Well… fuck." Stated the Demoman.

-oOo-

The undertaker nearly choked at the sight on his screens: the family? In the airport? Without him noticing? He tapped frantically on his phone, his eyes glued on the images.

"The family is in there! Where are you?"

"We're moving boss, but we'll need a few minutes."

"I don't care! Those damned mercenaries are going to die if you are not-" he began, then stopped when on the screen the image of the demoman came out from the crowd, slamming a bottle of something on the family's member's head. "Ok, take your time."

-oOo-

"Classy as usual, herr Demoman. I thought it vas your intention to qvit the drinking." Scoffed Klaus, getting on his feet and smiling to the black man. Douglas grinned, before patting the german's shoulder.

"It's lucky that I ain't, aye?" he asked, as the Spy walked out of the crowd, waving weakly at the Medic, who smiled, recognizing the slim figure.

"Ah, herr Spy too? That'z an interesting reunion, after all these yearz, ja?" he stated, ignoring completely the couple of guard rising on their feet, looking with disbelief the little group chatting. Just before a fat, small man took out a gun and shot at them.

The crowd panicked as the bullet hit the frenchman, who fell soundlessly to the ground, laying motionless. The people began to run, panicking and screaming, as the Medic and the Demoman stepped back, staring at the lifeless body in front of them. The short man backed up, as if he was surprised himself at what he had done, before aiming his gun again.

The pair of guards blinked before reacting, extracting their weapons and ordering the man to surrender. Just before other random people extracted weapons, shooting them down. Douglas and Klaus take cover behind a counter as the group of armed guys began to shout orders, trying to get a grip on the situation.

"Oh, zis is strange, they are not killing anyone." Stated calmly the Medic, opening his briefcase and grabbing the saw.

"Hell lad, how can you be this calm?! They killed the freaking Spy!" nearly screamed the scotsman, while behind the counter there was the sound of steps, as a large group of family's men left the corridor, leaving a couple of them holding down the people still there.

"Zis is herr Spy we are talking of. I'm sure he had zome sort of back up plan for zomething like this." Stated calmly the Medic. As soon he said it, there was a muffled scream, a couple of shots, the sound of cracking bones and a last shot.

"That's what you get, you little bastards!" sounded the cold voice of the Spy. The other two men poked out from behind the counter, watching as the Spy examined the gun he had stolen from one of the two men laying on the ground, their necks broken.

"How did that work, lad? I saw your freaking body!" shouted the scotsman as he walked towards him, while taking out his grenade launcher and putting a couple of purple-colored shells inside the barrels, grasping them from the depths of his pockets.

"Le cloaking device, apparently activates itself whenever I get hurt, even for the most minor wounds." Stated the Spy, pointing to a little scratch in his side, where some blood stains were on his suit. "And at the same time leaves a fake corpse."

"Ze Mann industry don't even know vat to invent next." Said the Medic, grinning a little crazily.

"We got to get the others. Your family and Dei- the Pyro." Stated the Spy, while preparing his stolen gun.

"Ain't too worried. They are with Sue, after all." said calmly the scotsman. "They are safe."

"Who's Sue?" asked the german, adjusting his glasses. One of the corridor's door blasted open, as the aforementioned blonde woman entered into their field of view, with her hair messy, her dress a little burned and bloodstained, and in her hand were resting the remains of a chair.

"Douglas McCroy!" she screamed furiously, walking straight towards the Demoman, as from behind her Deirdre emerged,a terrified expression on her face as she carried the two kids, who were watching their mother with dreamy expressions.

You should have seen mom, Dad!" exclaimed Sean, waving at his father. "A bunch of weird looking guys entered the bar, waving and screaming, and mom grabbed her chair and beat them up!"

"I know lad, that's why I married her, after all!" said [the Demoman, smiling. Then the expression on the woman's face made him cower in fear.

"De dire le verité, I think he was too scared to say 'no'." whispered the Spy at Klaus's ear, as Sue began to shout at her husband. The german chuckled, before walking towards Deirdre, greeting her with a warm smile.

"Fräulein Pyro, I see you are still in shape." He said, eyeing for an instant the girl's chest. She blushed and lowered her eyes, smiling.

"Don't push your luck, Medic." Whispered the Spy, poking the german's back with the gun. Deirdre blushed even more. Meanwhile the kids were looking around, examining the motionless bodies on the floor, as the few people still in the corridor were running away, screaming.

"Uh… are they… dead?" asked timidly Sean, looking at the motionless body of the fat man that had tried to shoot the Spy. Deirdre walked towards him, examining the body too.

"They are. They probably tried to hurt your dad." She stated, pulling the kid away from the body. "Just don't look at them."

"…YOU KNOW WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED, IF THAT GUY HADN'T TURNED HIS BACK TO ME?!"

"I know honey but…"

"WE WERE LUCKY THEY WERE TOO STARTLED TO TRY TO SHOOT ME IMMEDIATELY!"

"I understand honey but…"

"AND ALSO! ALL THOSE HORRIBLE STORIES ABOUT 'THE PYRO' YOU TOLD ME! THAT GIRL AIN'T NO PYRO! SHE WAS AS SCARED AS THE KIDS!"

"Well, that's a surprise, but…"

"Come on frau, don't be zo zevere on your ehemann. He zaved my life here." Stated the medic, trying to intervene in the Demoman's favour. The woman moved her blazing eyes towards him, and Klaus asked himself why he hadn't stayed quiet in his corner.

The Spy's cellphone began to ring in the same moment as the woman began to release her fury over the Demoman and the Medic.

"Pret?"

"Go outside, there is a military transport helicopter waiting for you."

"Pourrait etre a problem." Stated with a little smile the frenchman, while looking at the german cowering behind the scotsman.

-oOo-

The sniper was the first to notice the sound of a little helicopter, over the calm sound of the sea crashing against the ship's sides. As he raised his eyes, he saw the little chopper against the darkening sky lowering towards the ship. The Soldier followed the Sniper's eyes, and grunted.

"The others? Already?" he asked, taking a couple of steps. The others moved their eyes too, looking at the lowering helicopter, as a group of sailors rushed towards the end of the deck, freeing it from the few crates that sat atop it, leaving just enough space to permit to the aircraft to land.

With a screeching sound the helicopter's door slid open, permitting a female figure to jump off onto the deck. She began to immediately walk towards the captain, as the helicopter raised immediately into the air again.

"Oliver. such a long time." She exclaimed, over the sound of the propellers that kicked up a wind which made her long, black hair swirl in the air like crazy. The captain grinned, walking towards her and shaking his hand.

"I would have appreciated more a less stressed situation to meet you again, miss. But anyway, welcome to my ship. Your cabin is ready." He stated warmly. The girl nodded, and began to follow the old man, but then stopped and focused on the four men that were looking at her. She whispered something at the captain's ear before walking towards them.

"Well, good evening gentlemen." She said calmly, waving her hand.

"'Evening, missy." Answered politely the Engineer, as the Sniper motioned a bow, tapping his hat.

"So, you are the guys that the Undertaker is so eager to save, huh?" asked the girl, studying the group.

"You're saying it as if it's a surprise... is it?" asked the Engineer, trying to not stare at her eyes: one was an electric blue color, while the other one was a deep purple.

"What's strange is the fact that he wanted to save someone who didn't work for him to begin with." She said, moving her eyes over the Heavy. "Even if maybe… well, that would explain part of it…"

"And who are you girl?" asked aggressively the Soldier. He hated to be left hanging by someone. The girl drew her eyes over him, her hair dancing due to the wind.

"Undertaker's favourite medic. He called me for my help. And I can't refuse that."

"We already have medic, little woman." Grunted the Heavy, glaring at her. "We don't need a different one." The girl smiled apologetically.

"Medic for Undertaker's personal health problems, not for your…team."

"Hey don't say that mate. No one said we need the Medic. Ah mean, we're just hiding from those little pesky gremlins, aren't we?" stated the Sniper, scratching his neck worriedly.

"No fighting? Do you really believe that? Then why give us weapons?" boasted the soldier. The girl smiled, before turning and walking away.

"Those are good questions. suggest you ask them when you meet the Undertaker, tomorrow evening."

"Tomorrow evening? No ship can travel between America and Sweden in less than a day!" stated the Soldier, before scratching his neck. "Right?" The girl chuckled, before disappearing into the metallic belly of the ship.


	8. Preparing for War part4

"So… you four arrived while we were sleeping?" asked the Soldier, yawning and observing the black man in front of him: apparently, while they had all been asleep, a military chopper had landed on the ship, permitting to the other members of the old team to join the others on their peculiar cruise. The Soldier had the possibility to see the Spy and the Pyro looking at the sea, both of them with a cup filled with something in their hands, probably coffee. He had just waved at them and walked straight towards to the kitchen of the ship. While on the way, he had also the vision of the touching reunion of the Heavy and the Medic, hugging each other in tears. Well, after all they were extremely close, both during their fight as well as in calm situations. But tears weren't manly at all.

And now, he had finally managed to reach the kitchen, where he was welcomed by the sight of his old pal Demoman, sitting on a table with a grumpy expression on his face, as a couple of kids were arguing at his side, and a blonde woman with a tired face who was trying to set apart the kids. So, the Soldier opted for his secured and patented method to deal with children: he sat right in front of the Demoman, ignoring everyone else, and talked only to him.

"Aye. A couple of hours of flight, or something more. We had to fly all the way over England, you know." Commented the scotsman, sighing and drinking a little bit of the coffee in front of him. "And after that, we received a confused explanation about where we are going, and a bunch of other stuff." Grunted the Demoman. "And I'm still tired as well."

"Come on man. Maybe you should drink some scrumpy, instead that some fancy coffee."

"I quit drinking heavy stuff after my marriage."

"…Who are you, and what did you do to Demoman?" asked Soldier, raising an eyebrow. Douglas laughed, receiving a glare from his wife.

"A friend of yours, Doug?" she asked coldly, moving away her eyes from her husband and studying the Soldier's face. The Demoman paled a little, before clearing his throat.

" Sure hon'. This is the Soldier." Muttered the man. "Sol, this is Sue, my wife."

"So, this is the weapon-maniac American guy?" she asked coldly. Evidently, Don took it as a compliment, puffing his chest out.

"Sure am lady. And you are the Demoman's chick?"

-oOo-

"How did you get that black eye?" asked the Spy, looking at the grumpy face of the Soldier, where a violet eye was clearly evident.

"He had a little discussion with my wife." Whispered the Demoman. The Medic shivered on his seat, still remembering his experience with the woman.

"Now now gals, no time to chit chat about that." stated the captain, turning to the nine ex-mercenaries. They were all gathered inside the captain's cabin, waiting to hear what the old man wanted to say. "I received further instruction. as soon as we dock, there will be a van to take you all to the town's boutique."

"Boutique? What?!"

"I don't know for what. I imagine that the Undertaker will send all of you the last of your gear. And maybe a uniform or something. I don't know." Grunted the old man, scratching his head.

"Yo, got a question here!" called Billy, raising a hand from his chair. "What 'bout my girl? And Heavy's and Demo's family."

"That's actually a good question lad." Nodded the black man, leaning over the table and grabbing a botle of wine, chugging its contents, receiving an amused glare from the Soldier.

"I didn't receive any orders about that. I assume they will go with all of you. Don't worry, this town is the most secure place for all of you." Answered the captain, taking out a new bottle.

"How so pal? Ah was quite sure that all the family's gutless cowards had eyes everywhere." Commented the Engineer from his corner, stroking the shotgun in his grip.

"The Undertaker owns the town. Nothing happens there without him knowing about it. So, your ass well be safe and sound."

"Sounds good enough for me." Commented the Sniper, while looking out of the cabin's little window. "And anyway, there is no more time for babble 'bout that. I can see land from here." Stated the australian, adjusting his glasses.

"Man, you got some strong eyes. Anyway, relax. What can go wrong?"

"That's the same thing my father told me before my first marriage." Grunted the Soldier.

-oOo-

"So, we are going to a boutique, do a little shopping, and then we'll be at the mansion-house-thing where we were supposed to go. Nothing to worry at all honey." Stated Douglas with a fake smile. Sue raised an eyebrow, clearly asking herself if her husband really believed he was convincing her. She didn't answer and just pulled her children closer, glaring at the group of armed men occupying the little backspace of the van. The german Medic and the giant russian guy were happily talking about something, while a little girl sometimes poked her head up from beside the giant, looking silently at the other two kids, even if she she hid again as soon as Sue looked at her.

His husband was immediately engulfed in a conversation with the 'Soldier' guy and a man with a strong southern accent about explosives, while the Spy and the Pyro were relaxed on the other side of the van, the girl's head leaning on the slim man's shoulder, snoring lightly. The frenchman was looking outside the van's window, looking at the docks and the little town: it was indeed a small port town. No wonder sometimes it wasn't even marked on the maps. The higher buildings were three floors tall, and only the church tower was evident in the landscape.

The woman let her eyes wonder around, stopping on the girl near the 'Scout' guy. She was obviously sick. But not sick due to a virus. She had seen this kind of sickness, when she still worked on patrol, before knowing Doug. Her eyes moved to the girl's elbows, immediately spotting the injection marks. The woman frowned, pondering if she should say something. but then she remembered the set of weapons that all these men, more or less, had dragged on the van, her husband too. She frowned even more, and pulled her children closer her.

At the same time Stevo was looking at the black car in front of the van, where the girl with the mismatched eyes had entered, waving a hand to the group. The Sniper scratched his nose, as the van took another turn after the black car, entering into a large street full of people and some cars. The driver, a tall bald man in a black suit stopped the van at a street corner, in front of a modest boutique, then he turned, facing the men behind his seat.

"Now enter and follow the instruction the owner will give you. I'll wait you here." He said calmly, staring at the men. "Take your stuff with you. No one will ask anything." The others nodded, as the Engineer opened the door, grabbed his shotgun and walked rapidly into the boutique, quickly followed by the others, some rapidly, as the Spy, some with more difficulty, like the Heavy, who was dragged down by his minigun, walking towards the shop while whistling, his sister attached to his back. The woman glared for a second to the group, before jumping off the van with her children and Billy's girl. The driver didn't react, so she just entered the shop.

As soon as they entered, a stuck up woman with a long nose, a short curtain of gray hair and a pair of golden glass on her face walked towards them, without blinking, and harshly sent the group inside a set of dressing rooms, then returned to her customers, that were looking a little surprised at the set of armed men who had just entered into the boutique.

"Just wait here, ok?" whispered the Demoman, receiving a glare from his wife. Then he smiled to his kids, before entering into the little room. And then, he saw it: it was a suit. Not a fancy suit, or a working suit: it was like his old Demoman's suit. Exactly the same, same shape, same features, same violet color. And beside him, a new, lucent Stickybomb Launcher and a full bottle of scrumpy. From the other stalls came the voices of the rest of his friends, especially the happy exclamation of the Soldier and the surprised statements of the Engineer. Douglas sighed, and put on the clothing. He could see where this was going, at this point: fully armed and dressed. It was quite improbable that the Undertaker wasn't going to ask them for something. His reflections were broken by a scream from the shop, followed by a shot.

-oOo-

"Now, this is easy: tell us where the group is, and you won't be hurt." stated coldly the man in the green and golden striped suit, mooving away the barrel of his gun from the blown apart head of the old woman, and aimed it at Sue's chest. The woman bit her lip, while standing in front of her children and the confused girl, who was sitting on the ground, barely aware of what was happening. On the other hand, her children were screaming like crazy, while the Heavy's little sister was letting out a confused series of russian words.

"How about you put away your gun and talk like a civil person?" asked the woman, trying to reason with him. After all, she was trained to deal with armed guys just using her words. The man bllinked, before letting out a low chuckle.

"I'm sorry lady, but I'm just asking you as a courtesy. They are here, we can just search for them." He stated, as another two men entered the shop, both of them armed and with not-so-reassuring faces. "So, maybe we can just speed up things putting you down, or take the less bloody way to end this." He said calmly, stroking the trigger. The woman growled, pushing back even more the children. The man sighed. "Suit yourselves."

A rain of bullets entered into his chest, sending him to the ground with a single yelp of pain. The other two men turned, and began to shoot at the giant in the purple uniform that ran into the room, a minigun firmly held in his grasp, as he continued to shoot against them.

"This is coward killing time!" he cried out with an ecstatic grin on his face, ignoring the bullets carving through his flesh, since a constant flow of glowing purple light was healing him. The Medic was firmly walking behind him, his new, shining medi-gun aimed at his old collegue.

"Gesundheit, herr Heavy!" he cried out, walking steadily behind the mass of muscle in front of him, as the two family's men stepped back in fear, clearly not understanding what was going on. From the dressing rooms, the Demoman, Soldier and Sniper darted out, the first one crouching behind his wife.

"Get behind the counter, now!" he ordered, while loading a couple of purple-shimmering grenades inside his weapon. Sue didn't object: the safety of the kids was her first priority. She dragged them with her, as well as the dreamy girl, and pushed them against the surface, covering their heads with her arms.

"We have counted ammo lads! Let's make every single one of 'em count!" cried out the scotsman's voice.

"Ain't gonna be easy mate, there are a lot of them outside. Even on some buildings. I can take care of them though."

"Gentleman." Stated the calm voice of the Spy, as he came out of the dressing room. He was quite the same, except he was now wearing a purple suit and a purple balaklava on his head. "Time to get rid of some pests, I see."

"Safe place my golden ass!" growled the Soldier's voice, followed by an explosion.

"Let's get 'em!" cried out the Scout's voice, as the all group of men ran out, letting out war cries. Sue couldn't resist letting out a sigh and rolling her eyes. Men.

On the street, people were running around in panic, as bullets, rockets and bombs flew around. A few bodies were already covering the street, a few of the family's members and a couple of civilians.

"Like the old times." thought the Engineer, while shooting with his shotgun, watching as a couple of men were hit in the head by the spiked mace of the Scout. Just as the old days.

"Stay still ya little scumbags, I can't kill you if you continue to move!" cried out the Soldier, aiming with his rocket launcher at a little man, who was running around, his gun empty. In an instant of fear, the little man took cover behind a tanker with a 'flammable' tag on it. And in an instant of pure manliness, the Soldier fired.

-oOo-

Deirdre cowered in fear inside the little room, as an explosion rocked the building itself. She could feel the sounds, the screams outside, and she could also see the 'gift' they wanted to give her: a new, purple fire suit, and a lucent, stainless flamethrower. She sat in a corner, closing her eyes and breathing. She was going to stay there, even if from the smell she could tell the building was probably on fire now. She wasn't going to move anyway. She was too scared. And scared of the visions too.

"But why be scared?" asked a little voice in her head. "You could help Jaime a lot more. I think this is the least you could do, since he helped you so much."

The girl looked at the firehood laying above the suit, its empty goggles looking back at her.

-oOo-

(I highly suggest you to open youtube, search for the team fortress 2 soundtrack "dreams of cruelty" and listen to it while reading this part)

"Hell!" cried out Sue, standing up from beside the counter. What the hell did they do? There was an explosion, and now the place was on fire? The hell! The flames were spreading quickly, attacking all the dresses on the hangers and shelves, filling the air with thick smoke. That was probably why the woman didn't see the gun heading towards her face until the last moment, hitting her and sending her to the ground again.

"Here they are!" cried out a voice, as a bulky man leaned over her and the kids. "We can use them as hostages. Those idiots outside will be easy kills." He stated with a wicked grin, as another man emerged from the smoke, coughing.

"I don't know man. And, by the way, weren't there supposed to be nine?" he asked, cleaning his teary eyes.

His companion was about to reply, when his head was violently slammed against a wall by the sharpened edge of a fire axe. The hit was so strong that the upper jaw and upper part of his skull ripped away from the rest of his body, which fell to the ground, motionless.

"The fuck is this?!" screamed in fear the other man, aiming with trembling hands at the figure exiting from the smoke. The silhouette was quicker, taking some sort of flare gun out of his belt and shooting, placing a single big bullet-hole between the man's eyes. Sue raised her sight, while the kids just hugged her, terrified: an intimidating figure in a purple fire suit and gas mask walked slowly towards them, placing its gun back in its belt, while the other hand freed the fire axe from the wall, hooking it onto the other side of the belt. When its hands were free, it grabbed the mouth of the flamethrower bound to its back, and began walking slowly towards the woman, while a metallic breathing rasped out from the mask. It stopped, studying the group of trembling kids and frightened woman with a tilt of its head, beore turning towards the exit and began walking slowly towards it, the flamethrower firmly held in its grasp.

The woman relaxed only when the figure let out a muffled scream, raising the flamethrower above its head, and ran into the street. The Pyro had awakened.

Oo-oO

Finaly, new chapter. Finally some action is back. Aaaand, next chapter will have a little bit of more team action. They have to get rid of the family, right?

Hope you enjoied, and remember to drop a review for letting me know that. 'Till next time guys, gotta kill some robots now.


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